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EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS; 


FAMILIAR  LETTERS  TO  FRIENDS. 


BY  HENRY  COLMAN, 

ADTHOK  OI'  XUBOFEAK  AGBICCLTURK,  AND  THE  AGRICULTT7BB  Or  fBAKCE, 
BELGIUM,  HOLLAND  AND  SWITZEBLAND. 


IN  TWO  VOLUMES. 
VOL.  n. 


BOSTON: 
CHARLES  C.  LITTLE  AND  JAMES  BROWN. 

LONDON: 

JOHN  PETHERHAM,  94,  HIGH  HOLBORN. 

185P. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  ill  tte  year  1849, 

By  Henry  Colman, 

as  Author,  in  the  office  of  the  Clerk  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District 

of  Massachusetts. 


BOSTON : 
miN-TEB  BT  -WHITE  AND  POTTER. 


CONTENTS    OF    VOL.    II. 


LETTER  CVII. 

(Page  1.) 

Temperature  of  Devonshire  and  the  Isle  of  Wight ;  Frankness,  courtesy, 

and  kindness  of  the  people ;  Mr.  Sumner's  oration. 

LETTER  CVIII. 

(Page  4.) 

Time  of  Londoners'  departure  into  the  country  and  retiirn;   Sadler's 

Wells ;  Low-priced  theatres ;  The  Surrey,  and  Macready. 

LETTER  CIX. 
(Page  8.) 
Adventure  in  Regent  Street ;  Crops  in  England  a  common  topic  of  con- 
versation ;  Increase  of  population. 

LETTER  ex. 

(Page  10.) 

Matters  at  home. 

LETTER  CXI. 
(Page  12.) 
Passage  of  the  California ;  Storm  on  the  coast  of  England ;  Railroad  ex- 
citement ;  Alarming  state  of  the  crops  ;  Irish  wretchedness. 

LETTER  CXII. 

(Page  14.) 

The  Lord  Mayor's  banquet  at  Guildhall ;  The  Lady  Mayoress's  levee ; 

Dinner  at  Mr.  Baring's  ;  Autumn  weather  in  England. 

LETTER  CXIII. 

(Page  18.) 

Reflections  upon  old  age ;  Importance  of  employment ;  Approbation  of 

conscience ;  Quiet  of  the  city ;  Close  of  the  year. 

LETTER  CXIV. 

(Page  23.) 

Mildness  of  a  London  Winter ;  Beggary  and  distress  ;  Visit  to  Wales  ; 

Welch  district. 

LETTER  CXV. 
(Page  28.) 
The  moral  nattire  of  man ;  Realities  of  life ;  Domestic  felicity  and  Re- 
ligion ;  Autographs ;  Mr.  Everett. 


k. 


IV  CONTENTS. 

LETTER  CXVI. 

(Page  35.) 

Housekeeping  in  England ;  Manners  of  different  classes ;  List  of  servants. 

LETTER  CXVII. 

(Page  38.) 

Visit  at  Surry ;  Incident  at  Southampton ;  Visit  at  Fir  Grove  ;  Death  of 

Judge  Story. 

LETTER  CXVIII. 

(Page  42.) 
Opening  of  the  New  Year ;   The  London  season ;  True  Christianity ; 
Public  worship. 

LETTER  CXIX. 

(Page  47.) 

Facility  of  intercourse  with  England ;   The  War  question ;   Domestic 

politics  of  England ;  Mr.  McLane,  his  popularity. 

LETTER  CXX. 

(Page  53.) 

Visit  at  a  sick  chamber ;  Attentions  from  friends. 

LETTER  CXXI. 
(Page  55.) 
To  a  young  friend  ;  Studies  and  emplojTnents  appropriate  to  youth. 

LETTER  CXXII. 

(Page  58.) 

Landseer's  engraving  of  the  White  Horse;    Covent  Garden  Market; 

Several  of  the  principal  markets  in  London. 

LETTER  CXXIII. 

(Page  60.) 

Visit  to  Rag  Fair;  Foundling   Hospital;   Chelsea  Hospital;   Christ's 

HospitaL 

LETTER  CXXIV. 

(Page  63.) 

The  Medical  profession — their  fees  ;  Visit  at  Sir  John  Easthope's ;  Visit 

to  Earl  Fortescue,  and  Sir  Robert  Newman. 

LETTER  CXXV. 

(Page  68.) 

Charitable  labors  of  an  Irish  friend, 

LETTER  CXXVI. 

(Page  68.) 

Autographs  of  Rammohun  Roy,  Mrs.  Barbauld,  Dean  Smith,  and  others. 


CONTENTS.  T 

LETTER  CXXVII. 

(Page  70.) 

(Greenwich  Fair ;  Whit-Monday ;  a  great  festival ;  Breakfast  and  wedding 

at  Brixton  ;  an  English  Fair. 

LETTER  CXXVIII. 

(Page  74.) 

Commercial  Reform ;  Debates  in  Parliament ;  American  politics. 

LETTER  CXXIX. 

(Page  77.) 

Sunday's  experiences;    Finsbury  Chapel;  Lecture;    Excursion  in  the 

neighborhood  of  London. 

LETTER  CXXX. 
(Page  82.) 

Talue  of  Letters;   Recollections  of  Quincy;  American  and  English 
politics. 

r 
LETTER  CXXXI. 
(Page  85.) 
Autographs ;  Agreeable  visit  in  the  country. 

LETTER  CXXXIL 

(Page  90.) 

Visit  at  Wimpole. 

LETTER  CXXXIII. 

(Page  94.) 

Mississippi  river ;  American  politics. 

LETTER  CXXXIV. 
(Page  96.) 
Hours  in  London  ;  Evening  Visiting  ;  Opera ;  Taglioni ;  French  theatre ; 
Mademoiselle  Rachel. 

LETTER  CXXXV. 

(Page  101.) 

Crime  in  London ;  Security  and  order  in  London ;  Free  trade ;  English 

politics. 

LETTER  CXXXVI. 

(Page  104.) 

Mr.  E *s  opinion  of  human  progress  ;  Departure  for  the  Continent. 


VI  CONTENTS. 

LETTER  CXXXVII. 

(Page  106.) 

Qualifications  of  a  traveller ;  New  Parts  of  London ;  Rural  architecture  ; 

American  architecture. 

LETTER  CXXXVIII. 

(Page  109.) 

Out  of  seaion  in  London ;  Condition  of  Ireland. 

LETTER  CXXXIX. 

(Page  111.) 

Illness  ;  Kindness  of  English  friends  and  physician. 

LETTER  CXL. 

(Page  113.) 

Voyage  to  Bologne ;   Bostonian's  sea-sickness ;  Bologne ;  Journey  to 

Paris ;  Paris. 

LETTER  CXLI. 

(Page  121.) 

Lodgings  in  Paris ;  Attentions  of  friends ;  Expenses  of  living  in  Paris ; 

Fault-finding  travellers. 

LETTER  CXLII. 

(Page  127.) 
Christmas  in  Paris ;  The  Oratoire ;   Church  of  St.  Roch ;   The  Made- 
leine ;  Catholic  ritual. 

LETTER  CXLIII. 

(Page  133.J 

Sunday  in  Paris ;   Shops  in  Paris  ;   Party  given  by  the  Marchioness  de 

Lavalette. 

LETTER  CLIV. 

(Page  13.5.) 

New  Year's  reflections ;  Correspondents ;  Ball  at  the  palace ;  Courtesy 

of  the  Parisians. 

LETTER  CXLV. 

(Page  141.) 

Expression  of  sj-mpathy  ;  Duty  of  submission ;  Visit  to  Pere  La  Chaise ; 

Catholic  services. 

LETTER  CXLVI. 

(Page  146.) 

Painful  duties ;  Consolations  in  bereavement ;  Thoughts  on  a  future  life. 

LETTER  CXLVII. 
(Page  150.) 
Politeness  of  the  French;  Their  advancement  in  Science ;  European  poli- 
tics ;  Mode  of  distributing  bread  to  the  poor  in  Paris. 


CONTENTS.  Vll 

LETTER  CXLVIII. 

(Page  153.) 

Paris ;  CouTeaieQces  and  luxuries  of  the  city ;  PresenCation  at  Court. 

LETTER  CXLIX. 

(Page  157.) 

Comparison  between  French  and  English  manners  and  customs ;  Libraries 

and  Museums ;  Ball  at  the  palace. 

LETTER  CL. 
(Page  161.) 
Cases  of  extreme  destitution  ;  Ball  on  "Washington's  birth-night ;  Masked 
balls;  Chapel Expiatoire ;  Chapelof St.  Ferdinand;  St.  Cloud  ;  Sevres 
porcelain  manufactory ;  Temperature  of  Paris. 

LETTER  CLI. 

(Page  169.) 

Domestic  relations ;  The  approach  of  Spring;  Contentment. 

LETTER  CLII. 

(Page  172.) 

Domestic  relations  continued ;  La  Creche ;  Garden  of  the  Tuilleries ;  its 

pleasures  and  amusements ;  Nurses  and  children. 

LETTER  CLIII. 

(Page  176.) 

Modes  of  living  in  London  and  Paris  ;  Contrast  between  the  two  cities. 

LETTER  CLIV. 
(Page  180.) 
Private  residences  and  lodging-houses  in  Paris ;  Industry  and  economy 
of  the  people ;  Excellence  of  the  police ;  Acquaintance  and  visits ;  In- 
ternational exchanges. 

LETTER  CLV. 
(Page  183.) 
Meeting  of  the  Agricultural  Congress ;  Passion  week  and  Easter  Sunday ; 
Protestant  and  Catholic  services ;  Church  of  St.  Sulpice ;  Service  at 
Notre  Dame ;  Catholic  relics  ;  Sunday  in  Paris. 

LETTER  CLVI. 
(Page  189.) 
Value  of  letters  from  friends  ;  The  worth  of  experience ;  Personal  im- 
provement. 


Vlll  CONTENTS. 

LETTER  CLVII. 

(Page  191.) 

Manner  of  passing  the  time ;  Lodgings  and  arrangements ;  Expense  of 

living. 

LETTER  CLVIII. 
(Page  197.) 
Lawyers  ;  the  profession  of  the  bar  ;  its  objects  occasionally  perverted  ; 
Extracts  of  cases  from  the  London  Examiner,  and  the  Times ;  Prisons 
of  Paris. 

LETTER  CLIX. 

(Page  202.) 

Departure  of  friends;  Sympathy  expressed ;  Vague  reports ;  Horse-races  ; 

Mesmerism. 

LETTER  CLX. 

(Page  205.) 

The  season ;  Approach  of  Spring ;  Birth-day  of  the  King ;  Barri^re  du 

Trdne  ;  Tomb  of  Lafayette. 

LETTER  CLXI. 

(Page  210.) 

Necessity  and  importance  of  labor ;  Visit  to  Fontainbleau. 

LETTER  CLXII. 

(Page  214.) 

French  Agriculture ;  Villages  of  France ;  Nationality  of  the  Americans. 

LETTER  CLXIII. 
(Page  216.) 
Peculiarities  of  the  French  people ;  ,their  love  of  enjoyment ;  the  flower- 
markets  of  Paris ;  the  Hippodrome. 

LETTER  CLXIV. 
(Page  220.) 
Amusements  of  Paris  ;     Agricultural  excursions ;     Fontainbleau,  its 
treasures  and  curiosities. 

LETTER  CLXV.  ' 

(Page  224.) 
Amsterdam  ;  Mode  of  travelling  ;  Couriers ;  Hotels  ;  Husbandry  of  Bel- 
gium ;  Language  of  the  Dutch ;  Churches  at  Antwerp,  Brussels  and 
Mechlin ;  Peculiarities  of  the  Dutch. 


CONTENTS.  JX 

LETTER  CLXVI. 

(Page  228.) 

Amsterdam ;  Visit  to  Broeck,  Pamereuse,  and  Saardam ;   The  Hague, 

Leyden,  and  Haarlem  ;  Broeck,  its  extreme  neatness. 

LETTER  CLXVII. 

(Page  232.) 

Hofwyl,  Switzerland ;  Scenery  of  the  Alps ;  Cologne ;  A  walk  among  the 

mountains  of  Switzerland. 

LETTER  CLXVIII. 
(Page  236.) 
MUan ;  Fribourg ;  Jesuit  College  ;  Lake  of  Geneva ;  Martigny ;  Excur- 
sion to  Chamouni ;  Mont  Blanc ;  Passage  of  the  Simplon. 

LETTER  CLXIX. 

(Page  239.) 

Milan  ;  Wonders  of  art,  and  wonders  of  nature. 

LETTER  CLXX. 
(Page  242.) 
Milan  ;  Visit  to  the  Lake  of  Como  ;  Venice  ;  Churches,  Museums  and 
Galleries  of  Art ;  a  Magdalen  by  Titian ;  the  Arsenal ;  Lion's  Mouth ; 
Padua ;  Ferrara ;  Bologna ;  Florence. 

LETTER  CLXXI. 

(Page  247.) 

Florence ;  Objects  of  Interest  in  the  city ;  Arrival  at  Rome ;  St.  Peter's ; 

The  Colosseum ;  The  Forum. 

LETTER  CLXXII. 

(Page  250.) 

Rome ;  Climate ;  Churches ;  The  Columbaria ;  Reflections  on  the  relics 

of  the  Eternal  City, 

LETTER  CLXXIII. 

(Page  254.) 

Rome ;  First  View  of  St.  Peter's ;  Reflections  upon  the  Ruins  of  Rome ; 

The  Vatican ;  The  Papal  Court. 

LETTER  CLXXIV. 
(Page  257.) 
Paris  ;  Recapitulation,  and  expressions  of  gratitude. 

LETTER  CLXXV. 

(Page  260.) 

Announcement  of  the  Death  of  a  friend ;  Completion  of  Continental  tour. 


X  CONTENTS. 

LETTER  CLXXVI. 

(Page  263.) 
Importance  of  an  acquaintance  with  the  Language  of  the  country  through 
which  one  travels  ;  Precarious  dilemma  at  Haarlem  ;  The  grand  organ 
there ;  Dutch  men  and  women ;  The  beautj-  and  neatness  of  the  latter. 

LETTER  CLXXYII. 
(Page  268.) 
Recapitulation  of  objects  of  interest  during  the  Continental  tour;  Canova's 
Statue  of  Pauline ;  Princess  Borghese ;  Madonna  della    Seggiola,  by 
Raphael. 

LETTER  CLXXVIII. 

(Page  270.) 
Passage  up  the  Rhine ;  Facilities  of  travelling  upon  the  Continent. 

LETTER  CLXXIX. 

(Page  276.) 

Belgium ;  Holland ;  "Waterloo ;  Frankfort ;  Dannecker ;  Ariadne ;  Veray ; 

Geneva ;  The  Mountains  of  Switzerland. 

LETTER  CLXXX. 

(Page  281.) 

Political  state  of  Italy ;  the  moral  condition  of  the  People ;  Herculaneum 

and  Pompeii ;  Mount  Vesuvius. 

LETTER  CLXXXI. 

(Page  285.) 

The  passage  of  time  ;  Progress ;  Costumes  of  different  countries. 

LETTER  CLXXXII. 

(Page  289.) 

To  Mends  under  bereavement. 

LETTER  CLXXXIII. 

(Page  292.) 

Peculiarities  and  character  of  the  French  People. 

LETTER  CLXXXIV. 

(Page  294.) 

The  environs  of  Paris ;  French  peasantry;  Fete  and  fair  at  St.  Cloud. 

LETTER  CLXXXV. 

(Page  297.) 

Dzcursion  into  the  country  the  fanners  of  France, 


00NTBNT8.  XI 

LETTER  CLXXXVI. 

(Page  299.) 

The&uit  season  in  Paris ;  Markets  and  meat -shops ;  Cheerfulness  of  the 

French  people ;  Climate  of  France. 

LETTER  CLXXXVIL 

(Page  301.) 

Remarks  upon  a  preyious  tour ;  Departure  of  Americans  from  Paris. 

LETTER  CLXXXVIII. 

(Page  304.) 

Records  of  wickedness  and  crime  in  Europe. 

LETTER  CLXXXIX. 
(Page  306.) 

The  weather ;  Streets  of  Paris ;  Dwellings ;  Economy  of  Fuel. 

LETTER.  CXC. 

(Page  3b9.) 

The  weather  in  Paris ;  Political  condition  of  England. 

LETTER  CXCI. 

(Page  312.) 

Death  of  friends ;  Mont-marte ;  Funerals  in  Paris ;  A  day  at  P^re  La  Chaise. 

LETTER  CXCn. 
(Page  315.) 

Congratulation^to  a  friend .'^on  restoration  to  health;  The  weather  in 
Paris  ;,Condition_of  the  streets. 

LETTER  CXCIII. 

(Page  318.) 

Anticipated  political  disturbances  in  England ;  Reflections  on  the  present 

state  of  society. 

LETTER  CXCIT. 

(Page  321.) 

Intelligence  of  the  death  of  friends,  and  reflections  naturally  arising 

therefrom. 

LETTER  CXCV. 

(Page  324.) 

The  operas  at  Paris ;  Music  of  the  French  Academy ;  Mdlle.  Rachel ; 

Dinner  parties  and  balls. 


Xh  CONTENTS. 

LETTER  CXCVI. 

(Page  327.) 

Gayeties  and  amusements  of  Paris ;  Occupations  and  employments  of  the 

people. 

LETTER  CXCVII. 
(Page  330.) 
Political  condition  of  England ;  Disturbed  state  of  matters  upon  the  Conti- 
nent ;  Advantages  and  disadvantages  attending  a  change  of  government. 

LETTER  CXCVIII. 

(Page  333.) 

The  pulpit  and  preachers  of  France ;  M.  Coquerel ;  French  preaching 

compared  with  that  of  England  ;  The  Jardin  D'Hiver. 

LETTER  CXCIX. 
(Page  337.) 
Americans  in  Paris ;  Industry  and  frugality  of  the  French  people ;  Their 
devotional  exercises  ;    Domestic  attachments  and  conjugal  fidelity ; 
Their  philinthropic  eflForts  and  institutions. 

LETTER  CC. 

(Page  341.) 

Political  condition  of  France;  Dissatisfaction  of  tlie  French  with  the 

g  present  condition  oi  the  electoral  franchise ;  Suppression  of  the  Reform 

Banquets ;  Disturbances  in  Paris. 

LETTER  CCI. 

(Page  344.) 

Scenes  of  the  Revolution ;  Its  consequences  and  results ;  Formation  of 

a  Provisional  Government. 

LETTER  CCn. 
(Page  348.) 
Inauguration  of  the  Provisional  Government ;  Funeral  services  in  honor 
of  the  victims  of  the  Revolution. 

LETTER  CCIII. 

(Page  351.) 

Scenes  of  the  Revolution ;  Tumultuous  proceedings  at  the  Palais  Royal 

and  the  Tuilleries. 

LETTER  CCIV. 

(Page  356.) 

Eventful  days  in  Paris ;  France  a  Republic ;  Exemplary  conduct  of  the 

people. 


CONTENTS.  Xm 

LETTER  CCV. 

(Page  360.) 

Ill-judged  proceedings  of  Louis  Philippe;  Ability  and  moderation  of  the 

Provisional  Government ;  Difficulties  surrounding  it. 

LETTER  CCVI. 

(Page  364.) 

Distress  among  the  working  people  of  Paris ;  Diminution  of  the  value 

of  property ;  Quiet  restored  at  Paris. 

LETTER  CCVII. 

(Page  368.) 

English  prejudices ;  Severity  of  the  English  journals  in  regard  to  the 

French  people ;  The  National  Guards. 

LETTER  CCVIII. 
(Page  373.) 
E£fect  of  the  Revolution  upon  the  comforts  of  Paris ;  Preparations  for 
departure  from  Paris. 

LETTER  CCIX. 

(Page  376.) 

Distressed  state  of  Paris  ;  Excitement  throughout  Europe. 

LETTER  CCX. 

(Page  378.) 

Illness  at  Paris ;  Bankruptcies ;  Stagnation  of  business. 

LETTER  CCXI. 
(Page  381.) 
Return  to  London ;  General  alarm  from  the  proceedings  of  the  Char- 
tists ;  the  Chartist  procession  ;  Government  measures. 

LETTER  CCXII. 

(Page  385.) 

Renewed  kindness  of  Mends;  Disorders  in  London;  English  burdens 

and  abuses. 

LETTER  CCXIII. 

(Page  388.) 

General  commotion  in  Europe ;  Forlorn  condition  of  Ireland. 

LETTER  CCXIV. 

(Page  389.) 

Demonstration  of  the  Communists;  Retrograde  movements  of  England ; 

The  middle  classes. 


XIV  CONTENTS. 

LETTER  CCXV. 

(Page  392.) 

Extreme  solicitude  of  the  English  Government ;  Passage  of  the  Sedition 

bill ;  Strength  of  the  government. 

LETTER  CCXVI. 

(Page  395.) 

Visit  to  Dulwich  ;  Its  charitable  institution. 

LETTER  CCXVII. 

(Page  396.) 

The  Moderate  party  in  France ;  Want  of  forethought  and  discretion  in 

he  French  people ;  English  idolatry  of  their  own  country. 

LETTER  CCXVIII. 
(Page  398.) 
Visit  at  Acton ;  An  English  Pic-nic. 

LETTER  CCXIX. 
(Page  399.) 
Present  condition  of  Paris  ;  Probable  changes  in  England ;  English  secu- 
rity ;  the  Court  End,  its  splendor  and  attraclions  ;  Jenny  Lind  ;  Mr. 
Emerson. 

LETTER  CCXX. 

(Page  402.) 

The  proper  aims  of  men  of  learning  and  influence. 

LETTER  CCXXI. 

(Page  404.) 

Variety  of  political  news ;  Quiet  in  France ;  Confidence  in  Lamartine  ; 

Sumptuous  breakfast  at  Mrs.  Bates's. 

LETTER  CCXXII. 

(Page  407.) 

Jjakes  and  highlands  of  Scotland ;  Fingal's  Cave. 

LETTER  CCXXIII. 

(Page  409.) 

Visit  to  Dunkeld ;  Characteristics  of  the  Scotch ;  The  Gaelic  dialect ; 

Gretna  Green. 

LETTER  CCXXIV. 

(Page  412.) 

Tour  in  England  and  Scotland ;  The  discomforts  of  railroad  travelling  ; 

Preparations  for  retunring  home. 


EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 


1.ETTER  CVII. 

London,  17th  September,  1845. 
Mt  Deab  S : 

I  AM  told,  by  an  old  friend,  that  you  never  looked 
better.  He,  I  think,  has  grown  old,  but  I  did  not 
perceive  that  his  optical  or  mental  perceptions  were 
at  all  dimmed,  and,  therefore,  I  still  imagine  you  as 
bright  and  gay,  and  intelligent  and  cheerful  as  ever. 
But  you  have  not  grown  any  better,  that  is  certain, 
or  you  would  not  have  suffered  him  to  have  come 
without  so  much  as  one  line  to  your  old  friend. 
Very  old,  indeed,  I  am ;  an  £ige  I  little  expected  I 
ever  should  reach ;  and  when  persons  return  and  tell 
you,  at  home,  how  well  I  look,  it  only  means  that  I 
am  not,  perhaps,  quite  so  weather-beaten,  and  de- 
cayed, and  moss-covered,  as  they  expected  to  see  me 
in  the  interval  during  which  I  have  been  out  of  their 
sight. 

I  am  told  you  had  a  strong  desire  that  your  hus- 
band should  come  out  here,  and  bring  his  wife  with 
him.  You  never  proposed  a  wiser  thing.  I  cannot 
say  how  happy  it  would  make  me,  to  meet  you  here. 
Why  cannot  you  do  it  now  ?     Why  not  leave  the 

VOL.    II.  I 


2  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

cold  winds  of  New  England,  and  get  on,  —  I  was 
about  to  say,  the  sunny  side  of  Old  England,  but 
that  it  has  no  sunny  side.  The  winters,  however, 
are  comparatively  mild.  Devonshire  and  the  south 
of  the  Isle  of  Wight,  are  charming  for  their  moderate 
temperature  in  winter ;  and  here  you  would  have 
found  a  good  deal  of  sunshine,  of  the  most  genial 
kind,  in  many  of  the  houses  among  those,  who  would 
be  but  too  happy  to  show  kindness  to  any  of  my 
friends.  There  is  no  mistake  about  many  of  these 
people.  They  mean  what  they  say.  They  are  full 
of  heart ;  and  you  would  find  a  condition  of  society, 
so  intelligent,  so  polished,  and  so  courteous,  that 
your  husband  would  feel  that  he  had  lived  two  years 
in  one.  I  am  very  anxious,  too,  he  should  see  a 
thousand  things,  which  are  to  be  seen  here,  and  of 
which  books  really  convey  no  just  notion.  But  he 
is  the  keenest  and  most  inveterate  sportsman  I  have 
ever  met  with ;  business  is  his  game,  and  he  never 
loses  the  scent.  I  cannot  but  hope,  however,  that 
he  will  presently  find,  that  if  there  is  a  time  for  the 
chase,  there  is  likewise  a  time  for  rest.  The  riding 
of  the  day  may  be  so  hard,  as  to  unfit  one  for  the 
enjoyment,  or  even  the  repose,  of  the  evening. 

Mr. says  that  you  like  your  new  house  ex- 
tremely, and  that  nothing  can  be  better ;  and  then 
he  goes  on  to  add,  in  the  true  spirit  of  a  New  Eng- 
lander,  that  it  could  be  sold  for  several  thousand  dol- 
lars more  than  it  cost.  I  wish  our  people  would 
leave  off  this  habit,  at  least,  when  they  come  here. 
I  went  with  a  New  England  gentleman,  to  visit  a 
charming  place,  full  of  all  the  beauties  and  embel- 


LETTER    CVII. 


lishments  of  art  —  statues,  pictures,  objects  of  vei'tu, 
&c.,  &c.,  —  and  there  was  nothing  of  which  he  did 
not  ask,  how  much  it  cost,  and  whether  it  could  not 
have  been  made  cheaper,  and  whether  it  could  not 
be  sold  for  more  than  it  cost,  and  went  even  further, 
to  inquire  of  the  guide,  if  the  owner  could  ^flford  it, 
—  as  though  every  good  in  life  was  to  be  estimated 
by  a  mere  pecuniary  standard.  Certainly,  men 
should  regulate  their  expenses  by  their  means ;  but 
where  the  means  are  ample,  of  what  consequence  is 
it,  whether  the  thing  which  you  need,  for  ornament 
or  pleasure,  and  which  exactly  suits  you,  costs  little 
or  much  ?  Wealth,  with  us  in  New  England,  seems 
an  exclusive  matter  of  pursuit  and  acquisition.  I 
hope  those  who  get  it  will  presently  understand,  that 
there  are,  besides  the  acquisition  of  it,  two  other  very 
good  purposes  to  which  it  may  be  applied,  that  is, 
use  and  enjoyment.  Our  mutual  friend  seemed  de- 
lighted with  every  thing  he  saw,  and  I  could  not  be 
more  happy,  than  in  showing  him  what  he  enjoyed 
so  much,  and  in  witnessing  his  pleasure.  He  says 
he  shall  go  home  much  wiser  than  he  came,  —  so 
must  every  man  who  comes  here,  and  has  sense 
enough  to  see  what  is  to  be  seen,  judgment  enough 
to  make  all  proper  discriminations,  benevolence  to 
appreciate  what  is  good,  and  taste  to  admire  what  is 
beautiful. 

I  am  constantly  wishing  I  had  money,  —  not  for 
myself,  but  that  I  might  send  you  some  pretty  things 
which  I  see  here.  I  am  told,  however,  I  shall  see 
what  is  far  more  beautiful  on  the  continent,  and  then 
I  hope  you  will  give  me  permission  to  spend  som^- 


4  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

thing  for  you,  in  buying  what  I  think  would  orna- 
ment your  house,  and  be  an  enduring  source  of  de- 
light to  you  and  your  friends.  It  would  not,  after 
all,  be  more  than  the  expense  of  one  fashionable 
party  —  perhaps  not  half  so  much. 

I  am  quite  desirous  of  seeing  Mr.  Sumner's  ora- 
tion, which  is  on  the  way  for  me.  It  seems  not  a 
little  extraordinary,  that,  in  a  Christian  country,  an 
oration  against  war,  and  in  favor  of  universal  and 
perpetual  peace,  should  excite  such  general  opposi- 
tion, —  excepting  that  I  have  some  doubts  whether 
there  is  any  such  thing  as  a  really  Christian  commu- 
nity, confident  as  many  people  are  of  their  claims  to 
that  character. 


LETTER  CYIII. 

London,  17th  September,  1845. 

Thank  you,  my  dear  A ,  for  your  letter,  from 

which  I  infer  that  when  this  reaches  you,  you  will 
be  in  winter  quarters  in  Salem.  Here  every  thing 
is  reversed ;  people  go  into  the  country  in  August  to 
pass  the  summer,  and  stay  until  February ;  as  they 
go  to  parties  at  ten,  eleven,  twelve  in  the  evening, 
and  begin  the  day  at  ten  or  eleven  in  the  forenoon. 
These  seem  to  me  to  be  extremes  in  both  cases,  and 
that  the  wisest  way  would  be  to  stay  in  the  country 
while  the  country  is  pleasant,  and  in  the  town  when 
the  town  is  most  pleasant.     I  wonder  that  charming 


LETTER    CVIII. 


girl,  Miss  P ,  could  make  up  her  mouth  to  say 

any  thing  that  is  untrue.  I  did  not  suppose  it  was 
possible  for  any  thing  naughty  to  escape  those  ruby 
lips,  whatever  execution  she  might  unconsciously  do 
with  her  bright  eyes  and  that  finely  arched  forehead 
of  hers;  but  what  she  tells  you  about  my  growing 
so  large  and  stout,  is  really  nothing  but  what  they 
here  call  gammon.  I  am  very  much  what  1  always 
have  been,  in  size  of  body ;  and  in  mind  and  affec- 
tions, my  dear  A ,  you  may  be  sure  I  am  not  al- 
tered at  all,  but  am  as  true  as  the  needle  to  the  pole  ; 
a  little  truer,  I  may  say,  for  I'll  assure  you  that  with 
me  there  is,  in  no  latitude,  any  variation. 

I  write  to  all  of  you  so  often,  that  unless  I  had 
some  supernatural  invention,  or  employed  a  regular 
accident-maker,  it  is  of  course  impossible  that  I  can 
make  my  letters  interesting  for  any  matter  of  detail. 
I  know  you  will  be  glad  to  hear  that  I  am  making 
progress,  as,  indeed,  I  ought  to  be,  for  time  is  cer- 
tainly making  progress  a  great  deal  faster ;  and  if  I 
stay  much  longer,  my  grandchildren  will  be  playing 
with  the  vane  on  the  top  of  the  church-steeple,  and 

even  G will  get  to  be  one  of  the  Misses  D , 

and  will,  I  am  afraid,  be  disposed  to  cut  her  old 
grandfather  if  she  meets  him  on  any  fashionable 
street.     I  can't  help  it. 

What  shall  1  tell  you  ?  I  have  but  few  adventures ; 
yet,  for  a  great  rarity,  I  went  twice  last  week  to  the 
theatre.  The  family  where  I  lodge  were  going  to 
Sadler's  Wells,  so  I  went  with  them.  Then  I  had  a 
strong  desire  to  see  a  new  farce,  called  Peter  Jenkins, 
and  I  went  another  night  to  the  Lyceum.     These 


6  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

are  two  of  the  minor  and  low-priced  theatres.  The 
former  is  principally  devoted  to  tragedy,  the  latter  to 
comedy.  They  are  both  respectable  and  well  man- 
aged. The  Surrey  and  Victoria  are  detestable  for 
their  vulgarity  and  dissoluteness.  These  are  as 
marked  for  their  respectability  and  good  conduct. 
There  appeared  nothing  on  or  off  the  stage  to  offend 
the  most  fastidious  ;  and  I  got  much  sober  instruction 
from  the  former,  where  they  played  Moore's  tragedy 
of  the  Gamester,  and  fun  enough  and  good  humor 
enough  at  the  latter  to  last  me  a  month.  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Keeley  Eire  the  lessees  of  the  Lyceum,  and  as 
comic  actors,  greatly  excel.  Better  than  all  this,  they 
are  respectable,  and  respected  in  private  life.  They 
generally  perform  parts  in  which  love  scenes  are  en- 
acted, and  in  which  they  are  to  become  in  the  con- 
clusion the  happy  parties ;  and  when  the  union  and 
the  marriage  in  the  denouement  take  place  there 
seems  to  be  so  much  of  natural  and  genuine  affection 
between  them  that  the  audience  are  always  carried 
away  by  it,  and  the  whole  house  shakes  with  thun- 
ders of  applause.  So  much  of  goodness  and  truth  is 
there  always  in  the  human  heart,  in  spite  of  all  its 
depravity,  of  which  we  hear  so  much.  There  is 
another  circumstance  which  I  always  observe  at  all 
these  exhibitions,  and  never  more  strongly  than  at 
Sadler's  Wells,  where  the  characters  are  most  marked, 
and  the  acting  excellent  in  the  main  parts.  When- 
ever any  despicable,  mean,  or  intriguing  character  is 
presented,  there  is  an  obvious  and  universal  sentiment 
of  disgust ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  whenever  any 
noble  and  generous  sentiment  is  uttered,  and  when 


LETTER    CVIII.  / 

any  striking  act  of  duty  or  justice  is  displayed,  or  any 
heroic  and  noble  sacrifice  is  made,  then  the  eyes  of 
the  audience  fill  with  tears,  every  one  applauds  most 
heartily,  if  he  is  not  too  much  affected  to  applaud, 
and  you  find  your  own  bosom,  and  those  of  your 
neighbors,  beating  in  earnest  response  to  such  senti- 
ments, and  with  unmixed  approbation  and  delight  in 
all  such  actions  and  characters.  Ah  !  indeed,  how 
much  better  has  God  made  us  than  we  are  willing  to 
acknowledge ;  and  what  does  human  nature  need  in 
order  to  be  what  Heaven  intended,  but  to  be  placed 
in  situations  where  all  its  noble  and  excellent  attri- 
butes can  be  brought  out  and  strengthened  ! 

The  Surrey  is  a  large  theatre,  and  Macready  has 
sometimes,  since  I  have  been  here,  played  there.  At 
this  theatre,  however,  as  a  set-off  to  Mrs.  Trollope's 
account  of  the  manners  at  the  Cincinnati  theatre,  I 
saw  on  an  occasion  when  there  were  not  far  from  two 
thousand  persons  present,  three  well-dressed  men  sit 
the  greater  part  of  the  evening  in  the  dress-circle,  in 
the  front  of  the  box,  with  their  hats  on,  and  their 
legs  hanging  over  in  the  pit.  Tell  an  Englishman 
this,  and  he  would  have  no  doubt  they  were  Ameri- 
cans.    Adieu. 


EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 


LETTER  CIX. 

London,  loth  October,  1846. 
My  Deak  a : 

This,  my  good  friend,  Miss  P ,  will  have  the 

pleasure  of  delivering  into  your  kind  hands ;  how 
much  I  envy  her !  Time  goes  on  with  a  rapidity 
which  nothing  checks;  so  I  live  in  hopes  that  that 
will  presently  place  me  once  more  at  your  side,  with 
your  dear  children  in  my  arms ;  I  mean,  of  course, 
the  young  ones,  for  I  apprehend  the  others  are  quite 
too  large  to  take  under  the  wing. 

I  was  delighted  to  see ,  whom  I  think  intelli- 
gent and  manly.  I  was  surprised  to  see  hira,  and 
when  he  came  into  my  room,  did  not  know  him ;  but 
these  young  sprouts,  growing  into  such  large  plants, 
I  assure  you,  make  me  feel  quite  old,  and  to  them  I 
fancy  I  must  appear  as  the  decayed  trunk  of  an  old 
weather-beaten  tree.  However,  an  adventure,  yes- 
terday, of  rather  a  singular  character,  gave  my  blood 
quite  a  start  and  made  me  walk  much  more  erect 
and  more  nimbly  than  usual  for  the  rest  of  the  after- 
noon. In  passing  down  through  Regent  Street,  I 
met  an  old  sweeper  at  one  of  the  crossings,  who 
usually  expects  a  penny  from  me  ;  said  I,  "  I  have 
missed  you  for  some  time;"  "Yes,"  he  said,  "Ae 
was  growing  old,  and  had  not  been  very  well,  but 
had  got  back  to  his  place  again."  "  You  old  !  "  said 
I,  "  pray,  how  old  ?  "  "Ninety,"  said  he.  Ninety! 
think  of  that !  said  I  to  myself.     This  old  man  still 


LETTER    CIX. 


Standing  here,  and  active  and  laborious,  and  yet 
ninety  years  old !  Now  I  am  not  quite  eighty-nine  as 
yet,  and  therefore  I'll  take  courage,  and  try  not  to  die 
before  my  time. 

I  have  nothing  of  importance  to  write  to  you. 
London  has  been  pleasant  for  three  days,  but  pre- 
viously for  as  many  weeks  only  rain  and  fogs.  I  am 
thankful  that  my  happiness  does  not  depend  on  the 
weather,  and  that  for  my  own  personal  comfort,  I 
scarcely  care  a  fig  whether  it  rains  or  shines.  But 
never,  I  believe,  was  a  climate  so  capricious.  It  will 
be  clear  sunshine  one  moment,  and  the  next  a  pour- 
ing rain  ;  it  will  be  perfectly  cloudless  on  one  side  of 
the  sky,  and  then,  as  if  it  was  cut  off  by  a  line,  there 
will  be  a  heavy  shower  on  the  other.  This  is  rather 
womanish. 

In  New  England  you  hear  nothing  of  the  crops  ; 
in  England  you  hear  scarcely  of  any  thing  else.  In 
the  United  States  there  is  no  dread,  and  not  even  a 
thought  of  a  famine.  In  England  the  population 
increases  at  the  rate  of  more  than  four  hundred  thou- 
sand per  year,  that  is,  more  than  the  whole  popula- 
tion of  the  city  of  New  York,  and  how  they  are  to 
be  fed,  becomes  matter  of  great  concern  to  every  one. 
In  England,  likewise,  the  incomes  of  most  people 
are  limited,  and  they  live  up  to  them.  They  have 
no  extra  resources.  They  confine  themselves  to  one 
business  or  pursuit,  and  if  that  fails,  or  the  profits  are 
diminished,  they  are  reduced  to  hardship  and  distress. 
The  price  of  bread  aflfects  the  price  of  almost  every 
thing  else,  and  therefore  becomes  a  matter  of  univer- 
sal solicitude.  Adieu. 
'    TOL.  1* 


10  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

P.  S.     I  have  been  for  my  letters,  but  none  from 
you.     Shame  on  your  inhumanity  !     Pray  where  is 

my  dear  E ,  that  she  cannot  give  me  a  single  line 

from  her  kind  hand  !  Don't  give  her  a  kiss  from  me, 
unless  she  will  promise  to  do  better,     I  propose  to 

send  G the  beautiful  butterfly,  the  little  Psyche 

whom  I  so  long  to  see,  a  little  tea-set,  if  I  can  get  it 
to-day.  I  shall  expect  a  cup  of  the  best  gunpowder 
made  in  it  when  I  get  home.  I  mean  to  have  some 
sort  of  explosion,  for  in  such  case  I  should  be  ready 
to  fire  off"  all  the  cannon  in  Essex  county  at  one  blast, 
if  they  had  but  one  touch-hole :  as  the  Roman  em- 
peror said,  "  he  would  cut  oflf  the  heads  of  all  the 
Roman  people  at  one  blow,  if  they  had  but  one 
neck." 


LETTER  ex. 


TO    MISS    R- 


London,  16th  October,  1845. 
My  Dear  R : 

My  friend.  Miss  P ,  will  have  the  pleasure   of 

handing  you  this  ;  and  I  beg  to  bespeak  in  her  behalf 
your  kind  attentions.  She  is  entirely  worthy  of 
respect  and  esteem.  I  know  how  valuable  to  a 
stranger  will  be  any  little  attentions,  in  a  foreign 
country,  and  as  well,  how  much  you  can  do  to  make 
others  happy. 

I  think  you  are  very  much  in  my  debt,  unless  one 
of  your  letters  is  to  be  considered  as  equivalent  to 


LETTER    ex.  11 

three  of  mine ;  and  I  am  almost  willing  to  have  the 
mutter  adjusted,  even  upon  these  terms. 

I  should  be  exceedingly  glad  to  know  what  you 
are  about  just  now  in  the  way  of  your  usual  philan- 
thropic exertions.  Politics,  in  which  you  always 
took  so  strong  an  interest,  will  go  wrong  in  spite  of 
all  your  efforts  in  getting  up  political  meetings,  and 
circulating  electioneering  pamphlets.  The  clergy  I 
see  you  can  do  nothing  with.  They  will  have  their 
vestry  meetings  and  associations  and  fairs,  and  preach 
their  poor  sermons,  oppose,  instruct,  counsel,  wheedle 
them  as  much  as  you  will.-  You  don't  succeed  any 
better  with  abolitionism,  for  Texas  is  admitted,  and 
the  divine  as  well  as  domestic  institution  of  slavery 
is  triumphant.  In  the  temperance  cause  you  never 
took  much  interest,  and  I  beg  of  you  not  to  touch  it, 
for  down  it  will  go  if  you  do,  and  they  must  wake 
up  some  of  their  departed  laborers  to  raise  it  up  again. 
I  really  don't  know  how  your  waste  steam  just  now 
goes  off,  for,  as  to  a  quiet  life,  it  is  impossible  for  you 
to  lead  that.  I  sometimes  see  the  Salem  newspapers, 
and  though  they  publish  the  marriages,  (among 
which,  I  am  sorry  not  to  see  some  which  I  should 
like  to  see,}  yet  they  do  not  publish  the  births,  and 
therefore  I  cannot  find  out  whose  children  you  now 
have  in  tow,  and  have  taken,  in  order  to  train  in  the 
way  in  which  they  should  not  go,  as  two  or  three 
generations  must  have  passed  off  since  I  left,  the 
United  States,  and  your  former  protegees  must  now 
be  grown  entirely  out  of  your  reach.  Pray,  write, 
and  tell  me  what  you  are  about,  and  in  what  spirit 
of  calm  philosophy  you  now  spend  your  time. 


12  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

Mr. informs  me    that    the  good   town   of 

Salem  is  now  in  the  flood-tide  of  successful  experi- 
ment ;  railroads  are  diverging  from  and  concentrating 
there  in  various  directions ;  business  is  on  the  quick 
march  ;  and  factories  to  eclipse  all  others,  are  rapidly 
rising  and  gilding  with  visions  of  wealth  the  hopes 
of  the  proprietors.  Be  it  so.  Let  Salem  be  as  rich, 
as  prosperous,  as  happy  as  Heaven  can  make  any 
city,  and  it  cannot  be  more  so  than  I  wish  it  to  be  ; 
and  let  its  inhabitants  be  the  best,  the  most  intelli- 
gent, the  most  moral  and  the  kindest  people  that  live, 
and  they  will  not  be  any  more  so  than  I  think  them. 
I  only  wish  for  them  peace,  contentment,  and  happi- 
ness, according  to  their  deserts.     Adieu. 


LETTER  CXL 

London,  3d  November,  1845. 
My  Dear  Sir: 

I  WAS  delighted  with  the  visit  of  my  old  friend. 
Col.  Perkins,  and  likewise  of  Dr.  Robbins.  I  hope 
they  have  reached  you  in  safety.  The  Caledonia 
must  have  encountered  a  severe  gale,  and,  indeed,  I 
believe,  went  to  sea  in  the  midst  of  it.  In  the  North 
sea,  and  on  the  Dutch  coast,  it  proved  more  disastrous 
than  any  one  known  for  many  years,  and  much  loss 
of  life  and  property  has  occurred. 

I  send  you  some  English  newspapers.  The  paper 
of  to-day  contains  nothing  new,  or  I  should  send 
that. 

The  srtate  of  political  and  commercial  affairs  here. 


LETTER    CXI.  13 

just  now,  creates  a  great  deal  of  anxiety.  The  rail- 
road excitement  is  wholly  artificial,  but,  without 
doubt,  many  will  find  it  in  the  end  quite  real  enough 
for  them.  It  resembles,  in  all  its  symptoms  and  pro- 
gress, the  multicaulis  fever,  which  prevailed  in  the 
United  States  in  1836.  The  state  of  the  crops  is 
something  quite  alarming.  The  potato  disease  is 
much  more  extensive  than  was  at  first  apprehended, 
and  the  corn  crop  is  decidedly  short  and  poor  in 
quality.  The  same  condition,  in  both  respects,  evi- 
dently prevails  on  the  continent.  What  is  to  become 
of  the  poor  Irish,  without  potatoes.  Heaven  only 
knows.  Many  are  always  on  the  borders  of  starva- 
tion for  a  great  portion  of  the  year,  and  the  failure  of 
the  potato  crop  will  finish  them.  I  could  wish  them 
a  shorter  and  easier  death,  if  it  must  be  ;  but,  soberly, 
when  one  travels  in  Ireland  and  witnesses  the  con- 
dition of  millions  of  those  naked,  wretched,  degraded, 
miserable  beings,  one  is  compelled  to  ask.  What  is 
the  value  of  life  to  them  ?  O'Connell  is,  1  think,  a 
great  curse  to  Ireland ;  yet  the  Irish  have  been  very 
harshly  used,  and  their  grievances  are  real  and  deeply 
aggravated. 

We  are  very  anxious  here  for  the  opening  of  Con- 
gress, and  the  President's  map  of  his  future  policy. 
We  can  hardly  think  a  war  between  the  two  coun- 
tries possible,  yet  the  temper  of  the  people  here 
towards  the  United  States  is  constantly  aggravated 
and  incensed  by  the  public  papers,  which,  on  both 
sides  of  the  water,  seem,  in  many,  cases,  perfectly 
reckless  of  justice  and  truth. 

My  love  to ,  whose  letter  was  most  acceptable. 


14  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

I  should  have  foretold  that  your  Pennsylvania  jour- 
ney would  have  been  delightful.  I  know  the  route. 
To  say  nothing  of  Niagara  and  the  inland  seas,  the 
mountain  scenery  of  the  Alleghanies,  and  the  deep 
and  rich  vales  of  Pennsylvania,  are  on  the  most 
splendid  scale. 


LETTER  CXII. 

London,  18th  November,  1845. 
My  Dear  M : 

When  I  retired  last  night,  at  half-past  one,  I  said, 
surely  I  shall  have  to-morrow  morning  to  myself  ; 
but  I  had  no  sooner  sat  down  to  my  table,  than  a 
particular  friend  from  Ireland  came  in  to  breakfast 
with  me,  and  staid  with  me  until  near  eleven  o'clock. 
I  told  him  I  must  finish  my  despatches  for  the  boat, 
but  that  did  not  do ;  and  so  kind  a  friend  as  he 
proved  himself  in  Ireland,  and  having  come  out  five 
miles  this  morning  to  see  me,  I  could  not  but  be  glad 
to  see  him.  I  know,  however,  you'll  put  up  with  a 
very  poor  letter,  and  take  the  will  for  the  deed. 

I  have  not  much  to  say  to  you.  The  pile  of  let- 
ters upon  my  table,  which  accumulates  in  the  week, 
absolutely  frightens  me,  and  sometimes  makes  me 
think  I  need  a  secretary,  as  much  as  any  great  man 
in  the  country.  However,  many  of  them  are  too 
friendly  to  be  complained  of.  I  have  had,  within 
the  last  week,  a  kind  invitation  from  Lord  Hardwicke 
to  go  to  Wimpole  for  several  days ;  from  Lord  Hath- 


LETTER    CXII.  15 

erton,  to  go  to  Torquay  for  some  time  ;  from  Mrs. 
Peudarves,  to  go  to  Cornwall  ;  from  my  friends,  the 
Mortons,  to  go  to  Durham,  without  fail ;  from  the 
Morses,  to  go  to  Norfolk ;  and  from  Sir  Charles  Mor- 
gan, to  go  to  Wales,  in  December,  and  stay  as  long 
as  I  can,  saying  that  his  family,  in  the  kindest  man- 
ner, insisted  upon  it  that  I  must  not  disappoint  them. 
They  are  excellent  people,  and  there  I  have  agreed 
to  go,  the  7th  of  December,  and  stay  a  fortnight  — 
perhaps,  until  after  Christmas ;  and  I  can  go  with 
safety,  because  I  know  I  shall  have  a  room  and  my 
mornings,  until  four  o'clock,  if  so  I  choose,  entirely 
to  myself,  with  every  comfort  that  a  man  can  ask 
for.  But  you  may  be  sure,  that  nothing  is  to  inter- 
rupt the  prosecution  of  my  work,  for  the  completion 
of  which  I  am  more  impatient  than  you  can  be. 

My  friend,  Mrs.  Morton,  of  Durham,  as  excellent  a 
person,  I  believe,  as  lives,  in   a  letter  received  this 

morning,  desires  me  to  give  her  love  to  Mrs.  C , 

and  tell  her,  "how  glad  I  should  be  to  see  her  at 
Biddick."  She  wishes,  with  all  her  heart,  you  would 
come  and  see  her,  for,  besides  liking  you  on  my 
account,  she  would  like  to  see  an  American  woman, 
which  she  never  did.  I  don't  know  that  she  does 
not  think  you  are  copper-colored,  with  straight,  wiry, 
black  hair,  &c.  But  they  are  most  agreeable  people. 
I  have  made  them  two  visits,  of  some  days  each,  and 
they  urge  me  to  come  again  before  I  leave  the  coun- 
try. My  friends,  the  Courages,  are  now  in  France, 
but  wrote  to  me  that  they  were  to  be  at  home  next 
Sunday,  and  depended  upon  seeing  me. 

On  Monday  week,  I  dined  at  the  Lord  Mayor's 


16  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

banquet,  at  Guildhall,  on  his  inauguration.  There 
were  more  than  eight  hundred  ladies,  lords,  and  gen- 
tlemen, who  sat  down  to  a  most  sumptuous  entertain- 
ment, with  all  the  paraphernalia  of  royalty.  The 
Lady  Mayoress  holds  her  court  or  levee  before  dinner, 
and  the  strangers  and  others  are  presented.  She 
comes  in  like  a  queen,  'preceded  by  heralds  and  a 
lord  chamberlain,  and  attended  by  pages  to  bear  her 
train  — at  least  five  yards  of  satin  —  and,  being  seated 
on  a  kind  of  throne,  with  the  Lord  Mayor  at  her  side, 
and  the  great  men  of  the  city,  sherifi's,  aldermen, 
common-council-men,  judges,  mace-bearers,  &c.,  in 
superb  and  peculiar  dresses,  glittering  with  gold 
chains  and  diamonds,  she  receives  the  homage  of 
those  who  are  announced  and  presented,  —  and,  I 
believe,  the  great  difference  in  the  ceremony  between 
this  and  the  presentation  at  Court,  is,  that  you  bow 
to  the  Lady  Mayoress,  and  kneel  to  the  Q,ueen. 
After  this  is  gone  through,  four  heralds,  with  trum- 
pets, announce  her  approach,  and  she,  attended  by 
the  Lord  Mayor,  the  great  officers  of  state,  the  judges, 
in  their  crimson  gowns  and  flowing  wigs,  the  com- 
mon-council-men, and  city  magistrates,  in  their  robes 
of  office,  (fcc,  &/C.,  march,  in  grand  procession,  round 
the  hall,  between  the  tables,  at  which  most  of  the 
guests  stand,  to  take  their  seats  at  the  head.  Then 
the  feast  begins,  and  the  turtle  soup  flows  as  freely 
as  water,  but  a  good  deal  thicker.  The  procession 
in  the  city  was  most  gorgeous  and  finical ;  and  the 
Lord  Mayor's  carriage  looks  like  a  moving  house, 
drawn  by  six  beautiful  horses,  and  the  carriage  of  the 
Lady  Mayoress  was  equally  magnificent,  preceded  by 


LETTER    CXII.  17 

several  men,  in  complete  armor  of  brass  and  steel, 
and  their  horses  likewise  covered  with  armor,  and 
the  Lord  Mayor's  Jester,  or  fool,  also,  ridiculously 
dressed,  in  the  procession.  The  crowd  was,  I  thought, 
even  more  compact  than  when  the  Queen  entered 
the  city,  and  closer  than  I  ever  saw  human  beings 
packed  together.  The  heat  and  odor  from  the  crowd 
in  the  streets,  in  the  open  air,  were  really  suffocating. 
I  was  resolved  to  see  the  whole,  and  therefore  endured 
it,  and  had  the  delightful  pleasure  of  holding  in  my 
arms,  for  an  hour,  a  child  of  five  years  old,  belonging 
to  a  poor  woman  in  the  crowd,  who  otherwise,  I 
believe,  would  have  seen  nothing,  and  perhaps  not 
herself-  have  been  seen  again,  unless  in  this  way 
rescued  from  the  press. 

I  like  my  lodgings  at  Islington  very  much,  and 
now  think  I  shall  not  go  into  town.  They  are  very 
clean.  The  servant  is  neat  and  attentive  ;  my  land- 
lady, a  little,  young  woman  of  about  twenty-five, 
very  pleasant  and  anxious  for  my  welfare ;  and, 
though  it  sometimes  gives  me  a  very  long  walk  at 
night,  when  I  dine  in  town,  yet  I  am  saved  from 
many  interruptions,  and  get  very  quiet  nights'  rest, 
when  I  get  any  at  all,  of  which  one  is  never  sure  in 
London. 

On  Thursday  last,  I  dined  with  a  party  of  gentle- 
men, many  of  them  Americans,  at  Mr.  Thomas  Bar- 
ings, a  bachelor.  Scarcely  four  times  before,  since  I 
have  been  in  England,  have  I  dined  without  ladies 
at  the  table.  The  entertainment,  as  usual,  was 
splendid,  the  room  crowded  with  pictures,  the  tables 
covered  with  silver.     On  Friday,  I  dined  with  the 


18  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

Joys,  who  have  left  for  France.  On  Sunday,  I  dmed 
at  my  good  friend,  Mr.  Giblett's,  en  famille,  —  yes- 
terday, at  Mr.  Fox's,  with  a  small  party.  To-day,  I 
dine  with  Lord  Wallscourt,  at  the  Reform  Club 
House,  —  Thursday,  at  Mr.  John  Martineau's,  cousin 
of  Harriet  M., — and  Sunday,  at  the  Courages,  Dul- 
wich, — yet  I  am  not  dissipated,  for  our  dinners 
leave  me  my  day  to  myself,  and  I  try  to  get  home 
seasonably  in  the  evening. 

Love  to  all.  I  don't  forget  a  single  one  of  you, 
and  never  can. 

Three  weeks  in  October  and  November  were  de- 
lightful, but  it  is  now  damp,  and  so  foggy  often  that 
we  have  lights  at  noon.  The  weather,  however,  is 
mild.     Adieu. 


LETTER  CXm. 

London,  27tli  December,  1845. 
Mt  Dear  M : 

I  GIVE  you  the  credit  of  being  one  of  the  most 
punctual,  and  one  of  the  kindest  correspondents  that 
a  poor  exile  could  have.  If  it  were  not  for  your 
letters,  I  don't  know  how  I  could  live. 

But  how  long  I  have  lived !  Here  is  the  sixtieth 
deep  notch  in  my  calendar ;  and  here  is  the  sixtieth 
winter,  now  shedding  its  snows  upon  me  ;  a  decayed 
and  leafless  trunk  to  be  sure,  but  yet  with  some 
greenness  in  the  bark,  and  some  life  at  the  root.  At 
twenty  I  should  have  been  very  willing  to  have 
compounded  for  forty  ;    and  should  have*  supposed 


LETTER    CXIII.  19 

then,  that,  having  reached  the  confines  of  age,  (for  a 
man,  said  Dr.  Freeman  at  that  time,  in  his  beautiful 
sermon  on  old  age,  is  at  forty-five  an  old  man,)  all 
my  accounts  of  life  might  have  been  made  up,  and 
all  my  work  finished  ;  and  yet  here  I  have  passed  on 
as  far  beyond  that  time  as  I  had  then  to  reach  it,  and 
seem  only  to  be  beginning  to  live,  and  to  have  a  pile 
of  work  before  me,  which  I  feel  anxious  to  accom- 
plish, but  which  would  last  an  industrious  man  full 
half  a  century.  I  suppose,  under  these  circumstan- 
ces, I  must  fall  into  the  class  of  men  whose  calcula- 
tions are  beyond  their  power ;  and  yet  I  believe  it  is 
far  better  to  aim  at  much,  and  accomplish  little,  than 
to  aim  at  little,  and  accomplish,  on  that  account,  far 
less  than  what  we  might  have  done.  No  man  is 
more  to  be  pitied  than  he  who  feels  that  he  has  noth- 
ing more  to  do ;  the  great  secret  of  success  in  all 
cases  is  labor  stimulated  by  wide  purposes,  by  an 
unflagging  hope,  and  by  an  honorable  ambition  ;  the 
security  of  the  health  of  the  mind  is,  the  constant , 
and  natural,  and  most  active  exercise  of  all  its  fac- 
ulties ;  and  how  little  soever  any  man  may  attain  or 
accomplish,  a  reasonable  and  well-ordered  mind  will 
be  satisfied,  and  ought  to  be  satisfied,  in  having 
attempted  to  use  the  powers  which  God  has  given, 
to  their  full  extent,  and  to  worthy  ends.  If  we 
speak  of  accomplishment,  what  the  greatest  men  and 
the  greatest  minds  have  accomplished  seems  little 
compared  with  what  they  might  have  done ;  and  if 
we  speak  of  attainment,  he  who  has  climbed  the 
highest  summit  sees  other  summits  before  him,  loom- 
ing high  in  the  distEuice,  and  stimulating  him  to  new 


20         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

and  ceaseless  effort.  If  I  may  speak  to  you,  as  I 
would  to  my  own  heart,  though  beating  in  another 
bosom,  I  can  only  say,  that  in  my  active,  though 
humble  efforts,  my  motives  have  never  been  sordid, 
nor  my  views  selfish,  nor  my  aims  to  the  loss,  or 
discomfiture,  or  prejudice,  or  injury,  of  any  human 
being;  that  I  never  sought  with  any  an  unkind 
competition ;  never  regarded  any  man's  honest  suc- 
cess with  the  slightest  envy  or  regret ;  and  though 
I  may  have  felt  an  undue  love  of  approbation,  and 
been  perhaps  too  sensitive  to  the  opinions  of  others, 
yet,  with  the  exception  of  your  affection  and  confi- 
dence, which  are  most  sacred,  and  more  dear  to  me 
than  any  thing  in  the  world,  extraneous  to  my  own 
mind,  the  unanimous  approbation  of  the  world,  if  I 
could  command  it,  is  of  no  moment  compared  with 
the  consciousness  of  having  pursued  worthy  ends  by 
honest  means ;  of  never  having  resented  an  injury, 
and  never  willingly  have  inflicted  one  upon  the 
person  or  character  of  any  human  being ;  and  of 
having,  in  my  public  works,  sought  objects  wholly 
of  practical  good  ;  and  if  they  have  not  been  splen- 
did and  ambitious,  they  have  at  least  the  merit  of 
being  innocent  and  useful. 

But  why,  you'll  ask,  perhaps,  do  I  write  in  this 
grave  style  to  you.  I'll  answer  you.  It  is  late, 
Saturday  night ;  the  town  seems  still,  and  the  streets 
in  a  state  of  repose,  after  the  festivities  and  excite- 
ments of  a  holiday  week  ;  the  storm  is  beating  hard 
against  my  windows  ;  — it  is  the  close  of  the  year  ; 
and  whether  it  is  because  I  have  not  been  very  well 
the  last  week,  or  because  every  day  the  time  that  I 


LETTER    CXIII.  21 

have  been  away  seems  so  much  longer,  and  seems  to 
be  making  such  a  deep  incision  upon  what  little,  in 
the  course  of  nature,  can  remain  for  us,  my  mind  has 
been  hovering  continually  over  the  friends  beyond 
the  sea.  I  continue  to  receive  all  the  attention  I 
could  ask  for,  and  much  more  is  offered  than  I  can 
accept ;  I  have  many  friends  here  of  the  most  esti- 
mable character,  whose  friendship  is  the  highest 
honor,  and  who  profess  to  me  not  only  their  good 
will,  but  their  WEirm  affection ;  yet  my  mind  has 
been  full,  night  and  day,  with  the  reminiscences  of 
home. 

December  28th. 

It  was  two  o'clock  last  night,  or  rather,  I  may  say 
this  morning,  when  I  finished  the  preceding  pages  ; 
and  I  rose  this  morning  at  eight.  At  this  season  the 
days  are  only  eight  hours,  and  the  nights  are  sixteen  ; 
and  when  to  this  is  added  the  dense  fogs  which 
often  compel  you  to  light  a  candle  at  noon  day,  what 
may  be  called  day  dwindles  into  very  small  dimen- 
sions. 

To-day  I  walked  four  miles  to  church,  in  quite  a 
heavy  rain ;    dined    with    some    friends,  passed  an 

hour  at 's,  very  intimate  personal  friends ;  his 

wife,  in  the  English  sense  of  the  word,  one  of  the 
cleverest  women  I  know.     Wrote  a  long  letter  in 

reply  to  one  I  received  last  evening  from  Miss , 

who  says  she  chose  to  communicate  to  me  as  one  of 
her  best  friends,  a  matrimonial  alliance  she  had'  just 
formed ;  she  is  a  very  intelligent,  agreeable,  and 
pleasing  person.     Walked  to  Mr.  McLane's,  the  am- 


22  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

bassador,  where  the  Americans  usually  congregate 
on  Sunday  evenings,  quite  four  miles  from  where  I 
live,  and  returned  home  at  eleven. 

I  cannot  say  the  preaching  to-day  was  very  attrac- 
tive ;  it  was  upori  the  close  of  the  year ;  and  occu- 
pied three-fourths  of  an  hour,  when  if  all  the  wheat 
could  be  sifted  from  the  chaflf,  it  might  have  been 
pressed  into  a  pint  measure,  whereas  the  latter  would 
have  filled  a  large  basket.  There  were,  however, 
some  good  points  in  the  sermon  ;  it  filled  up  the 
time,  and  there  was  at  least  no  harm  in  it.  But  here 
I  might  eigain  bid  you  good  night,  the  watchman  has 
cried  the  hour  of  one,  and  my  shutters,  as  I  dare  say 
you  surmise,  are  already  beginning  to  swing  to  of 
themselves. 

December  29tli. 

I  am  glad  to  hear  Mr.  Peabody  is  to  be  at  the 
Chapel.  At  his  age,  and  with  his  experience,  he  is 
not  likely  to  be  spoiled  by  the  idolatry  with  which 
ministers  are  often  regarded  in  our  New  England 
cities.  Lord  Hatherton  wrote  to  me  three  weeks  ago 
the  kindest  letter  possible:  the  others  of  the  family 
are  at  a  watering  place,  about  two  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  from  London.  He  said  he  had  not  heard  trom 
me  for  some  time,  and  wished  to  know  my  place, 
my  doings,  and  my  plans  ;  and  if  I  was  about  to 
leave  England,  and  would  not  visit  them,  he  would 
come  expressly  to  London  to  see  me.  This  is  only 
a  sample  of  the  kindness  which  is  continually  shown 
to  me. 

I  have  had  two  letters  lately,  one  with  a  book,  and 


LETTER    CXIV.  83- 

the  other  with  a  pair  of  wristers  or  mufftees,  as  they 
call  them  here,  from  two  young  ladies  in  Lincoln- 
shire, of  one  of  the  best  families  in  the  country,  and 
two  as  superior  persons  as  in  any  family  in  the 
world.  The  letters  were  both  volunteers,  and  as 
kind  as  possible.  Wristers  I  never  wear,  so  I  transfer 
them  to  you,  and  the  love  that  came  with  them  I 
would  divide  with  you,  were  it  a  transferable  com- 
modity. 

But  I  think  I  am  quite  safe  in  saying,  the  donors 
would  love  what  I  love. 


LETTER  CXIV. 

London,  30th  December,  1845. 
Mt  Dear  A : 

The  clock  has  just  told  his  longest  story,  and 
uttered  his  midnight  admonitions ;  but  you  shall 
have  one  hour,  for  I  know  I  shall  sleep  all  the  better 
for  a  bit  of  conversation  with  you  ;  not  the  more 
soundly  —  no  —  but  the  more  sweetly;  for  visions 
of  home  and  all  that  makes  home  dear  to  me,  of 
loved  ones  on  earth,  and  loved  ones  in  heaven,  will 
hover  round  my  pillow  ;  I  shall  feel  the  soft  impress 
of  lips  fragrant  with  affection  upon  my  forehead ;  I 
shall  perceive  the  gentle  pressure  of  loving  hands 
upon  my  beating  heart ;  I  shall  hear  the  warm 
accents  of  welcome  from  those  who  still  wear  the 
well-known  drapery  of  earth ;  and,  perhaps,  I  may 
perceive    sounds  of  "  no  mortal    measure  "  floating 


24  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

round  me,  voices  of  another  world,  celestial  sympho- 
nies, invitations  of  encouragement  and  welcome, 
bursting  in  well-remembered  tones  from  lips  touched 
with  heaven's  own  fire,  and  breathing  a  divine 
music.  These,  indeed,  would  be  precious  visions, 
which  would  make  my  chamber  bright,  and  stud  the 
canopy  of  my  bed  with  gems  of  living  light,  and 
solace  me,  under  a  sense  of  separation  from  some 
whom  I  never  caity  and  from  others,  whom  under 
the  uncertainties  of  life,  I  never  may  see  again  on 
earth.  I  need  such  solace,  I  assure  you ;  and  there- 
fore I  thank  you  for  your  kind  letter,  and  beg  you  to 
write  more  often ;  I  pray  you  to  consider  not  how 
much  pains  such  efibrts  cost  you,  but  how  much 
pleasure  they  give  me,  and  then  you  would  need  no 
further  stimulant ;  you  would  not  then  forget  the  day 
of  the  sailing  of  the  steamer,  and  you  would  not  let 
weeks  and  weeks  elapse,  without  a  single  message 
of  aflfection  to  an  absent  friend,  who  loves  you  as 
well  as  you  can  be  loved,  and  finds  one  of  the  great- 
est sources  of  his  comfort  and  happiness  in  the  belief 
that  that  affection  is  returned. 

But  now  let  me  come  to  matters  of  more  detail. 
November  and  December,  in  London,  are  months  of 
smoke,  and  fog,  and  rain  ;  but  the  temperature  is 
mild,  and  if  there  is  any  light  within  the  house  and 
the  heart,  it  matters  little  how  it  is  without  doors. 
Yet,  at  this  season,  one  cannot  walk  the  streets  of 
London  without  having  his  sensibility  shocked  at 
every  turn,  by  night  and  by  day.  I  do  not  know 
that  the  distress  is  extraordinary,  but  I  never  saw  so 
much  beggary,  and  squalid  destitution,  and  extreme 


LETTER    CXIV.  25 

wretchedness,  as  I  meet  here  continually  ;  the  more 
afflictive  and  distressing  from  the  conviction  that 
there  is  no  practicable  remedy,  and  that  the  little 
which  an  individual  can  do  for  its  relief  or  removal, 
is  like  undertaking  to  drain  a  lake  with  a  tea-cup. 
It  is  impossible,  however,  for  any  man,  with  the 
shadow  of  pretensions  to  humanity,  to  refuse  that 
little.  To  street  beggars  I  seldom  give  money,  but 
I  often  give  bread,  especially  if  they  are  poor,  de- 
cayed, shivering  old  women.  I  was  accosted  last 
evening  by  dozens,  but  by  one  especially,  a  miserable, 
squalid  old  creature,  who  assured  me,  and  I  have  no 
doubt  with  perfect  truth,  that  she  had  three  children 
at  home,  and  that  their  whole  subsistence  for  the  last 
two  days  was  a  penny  loaf  of  bread,  small  enough, 
you  may  be  sure,  and  three  potatoes.  Now  I  dare 
say  there  are  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  of 
such  cases,  within  a  circuit  of  two  miles  from  me, 
of  persons  actually  dying  by  piecemeal,  from  starva- 
tion ;  and  all  this  in  the  midst  of  a  splendor,  perfectly 
dazzling,  and  a  wealth  surpassing  the  dreams  of 
Oriental  magnificence. 

I  have  not  much  adventure  to  relate.  My  recent 
visit  to  Wales  was  most  delightful.  I  gave  you 
sometime  since  an  account  of  the  residence  of  my 
good  old  friend.  Sir  Charles  Morgan,  for  such  he 
chooses  to  call  himself,  and  the  repetition  was  even 
more  agreeable  than  my  first  visit.  The  house  is 
full  of  every  thing  that  can  administer  to  luxury  or 
comfort,  and  lady  Rodney,  his  widowed  daughter,  is 
a  most  kind  and  agreeable  person,  and  makes  every 
body  around  her  happy.     The  guests  on  this  occa- 

VOL.    II.  2 


26  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

sion,  were  numerous  and  agreeable.  From  Trede- 
gar, Sir  Charles'  residence,  Mr.  Humphrey  took  me, 
with  the  kindest  attention,  twenty-five  miles  in  his 
carriage  to  Bedwellty,  to  see  the  extensive  iron  fur- 
naces and  collieries,  among  the  hills,  and  afterwards 
returned  with  me  to  Newport.  I  staid  with  him 
three  days.  His  own  establishment  is  extensive  and 
elegant,  and  his  works  are  upon  a  grand  scale. 
Twenty-five  hundred  people  are  employed  at  the 
furnaces  and  the  mines.  There  are  seven  large  fur- 
naces, in  some  of  which  the  fire  has  been  burning 
constantly  for  twenty-seven  years.  The  melted  iron 
flows  out  into  the  moulds,  like  cream  from  a  cream- 
pot  ;  and  they  toss  about  the  liquid  masses  of  min- 
eral, reduced  to  a  state  of  white  heat,  like  snow-balls. 
Many  women  and  girls  are  employed  in  loading  and 
unloading  the  coal  wagons,  feeding  the  furnaces,  and 
piling  away  the  iron.  At  least,  I  took  them  to  be 
women,  though  one  would  hardly  recognize  them  to 
be  human  beings,  but  from  a  near  inspection.  Their 
dress  is  of  the  most  ordinary  description,  being  a  kind 
of  long  surtout ;  they  are  begrimmed  with  dirt,  and 
perfectly  black  with  coal  dust  and  smoke  ;  but  then, 
their  bright  eyes  and  ruby  lips,  and  oftentimes  beau- 
tiful rows  of  pearl  between  them,  looking  like  pieces 
of  china  and  broken  glass  in  a  basket  of  rubbish, 
betoken  their  sex. 

The  Welch  dialect  is  perfectly  unintelligible  to 
me,  but  they  have  schools  here  in  which  English  is 
taught,  and  which  I  thought,  upon  the  whole,  well 
conducted.  The  earnings  of  the  men  at  the  iron 
works  and  collieries,  are  very  large,  but  they  ..re,  in 


LETTER    CXIV.  27 

most  cases,  wasted  in  drunkenness  and  gambling, 
and  their  families  often  suffer  by  this  profligacy.  I 
inquired  if  there  was  no  Savings  Bank,  in  which 
they  could  be  induced  to  deposit  their  surplus.  The 
answer  was  no ;  and  there  seemed  evidently,  I  may 
almost  say  avowedly,  an  indisposition  to  interfere 
with  the  appropriation  of  their  wages,  lest  the  em- 
ployers should  lose  their  labor,  which  it  might  be 
difficult  to  replace.  This  appeared  to  me  greatly  to 
be  lamented.  A  small  sum,  however,  is  taken  from 
their  wages,  at  settlement,  which  forms  a  fund  for 
surgeons'  or  physicians'  fees,  in  case  of  sickness  or 
accident.  The  work  to  which  the  women  and  girls 
were  subjected,  was  of  the  most  severe  kind,  but 
their  muscular  energies  appeared  equal  to  their  exi- 
gencies. I  think  it  was  at  this  place  I  found  one 
young  woman,  whose  task  it  was  after  the  clay  was 
furnished,  to  mould  twenty-five  hundred  fire  bricks 
per  day,  and  lay  them  away.  Some  of  our  boarding 
school  young  ladies  seem  to  be  mere  cotton  rags,  to 
women  of  such  muscular  energy.  What  say  you, 
can  the  mind  be  equally  matured  and  invigorated  by 
a  discipline  as  severe  ?  Certainly  not,  without  a 
similar  training  of  the  body.  This  is  a  curious  ques- 
tion, which  I  shall  not  now  discuss.  What  would 
some  gentle  husbands  of  our  acquaintance  do,  with 
such  amazons  for  wives  ?     Adieu. 


28'  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 


LETTER  CXV. 


TO    M.    K.    W. 


London,  SOth  December,  1845. 

God  bless  you,  my  dear  W ,  for  your  kind  and 

most  welcome  letters.  One  must  be  an  exile  from 
home  for  two  or  three  years,  to  know  the  value  of 
such  a  message  of  good  will  and  affection,  and  the 
thousand  brilliant  associations  which  it  kindles  is  like 
touching  a  match  to  a  train  of  gunpowder,  but, 
Heaven  be  praised,  not  so  evanescent  and  insub- 
stantial. If  any  thing  in  human  existence  is  real, 
why  then  the  kind  affections  are  real ;  esteem,  friend- 
ship, truth,  honor,  are  realities,  as  much  as  and  more 
than  flesh  and  blood  ;  we  live  upon  them  ;  they  are 
the  aliment  of  the  soul,  the  support  of  our  spiritual 
nature,  all  that  makes  earth  delightful,  all  that  will 
make  Heaven  happy.  It  is  our  animal  nature  that  is 
insubstantial  and  changeable ;  that  decays  daily ; 
that  drops  off  like  the  clothes  we  wear ;  that  is  to 
mingle  again  with  the  dust,  out  of  which  it  sprang, 
and  be  reconstructed  and  converted  into  the  dresses 
and  habiliments  of  other  beings  and  existences  in 
God's  great  family.  It  is  man's  moral  nature  that 
makes  him  what  he  is  —  all  that  he  can  call  his  own  ; 
that  forms  the  man  ;  constitutes  his  identity,  over 
which  no  change  has  power,  and  which  can  know 
no  death.     These,    then,  are  the   realities   of  life; 


I 


LETTER    CXy.  29 

and  when  messages  of  affection  and  friendship  come 
bounding  over  the  billows  of  the  ocean,  which  the 
noise  of  its  waves  cannot  silence,  nor  the  depth  of 
the  fathomless  waters  drown,  —  when  the  little  paper 
casket,  like  a  messenger  pigeon,  flies  into  my  hands, 
freighted  with  the  treasures  of  sympathy  and  love, 
my  heart  rises  in  gratitude  to  Heaven,  as  I  break  the 
seal,  and  I  press  it  to  my  bosom,  where  it  wakens 
instantly  the  gathering  sympathies,  all  waiting  to 
respond  in  their  loudest  tones. 

I  was  delighted  that  you  opened  to  me  at  once,  as 
to  an  old  friend,  the  doors  of  your  domestic  sanctu- 
ary, and  showed  me  your  household  gods.  Beware, 
my  dear  friend,  of  idolatry.  I  am  afraid  you  have 
too  much  prosperity  to  be  good,  and  that  you  will 
presently  need  some  wholesome  discipline  to  keep 
you  humble.  Yet  to  enjoy  is  to  be  grateful,  and  the 
use  of  any  of  God's  gifts  does  not  imply  their  abuse. 
The  just  and  full  appreciation  of  all  our  blessings,  is 
one  of  the  first  duties  of  religion.  You  have  drawn 
aside  the  curtain,  that  I  may  look  at  that  precious 
tableau  of  domestic  felicity.  Now  let  me  tell  you 
the  experience  of  an  old  friend,  that  you  may  not 
think  that  you  are  the  only  happy  man ;  for  your 
benovolent  mind  will  find  a  satisfaction  in  seeing  the 
wide  diffusion  of  the  best  blessings  of  Heaven.  I 
will  give  it  to  you  in  his  own  words.  He  says  :  "  I 
have  been  married  nearly  forty  years,  and  I  can  say, 
in  sober  truth,  if,  with  my  present  experience,  it  were 
left  with  me  to  choose  out  of  the  wide  circle  in  which 
I  have  revolved,  1  should  choose,  above  all  others, 
that  faithful  friend  whom  Heaven  cast  into  my  arms. 


30  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

We  have  seen  much  of  life  together,  we  have  been 
poor,  and  always  toiled  hard  ;  but  we  have   never 
complained,  and  we  have  had,  if  nothing  else,  plenty 
of  love  and  plenty  of  friends.     On    the   tree,  under 
which  we  plighted  our  troth,  and  which  we  have 
nourished  together,  there  came  out,  at  the  first,  the 
buds   of  mutual   affection,   gradually  opening  their 
beautiful  petals  to  the  sun,  and  exhaling  their  intoxi- 
cating   perfumes,   but  yet    fragile  and  uncertain  in 
their  results ;  then  the  forming  fruit  of  esteem  began 
to  swell  and  expand,  giving  strong  promise  of  a  har- 
vest ;  mutual  respect  appeared  as  the  next  stage  of 
growth,  becoming  strengthened  and  enlarged,  under 
the  ever  changing  elements  of  sunshine  and  storm 
to  which  the  parent  tree  was  sut)jected ;  last  of  all, 
the  whole  seemed  changed  into  mutual  and  entire 
confidence,  not  the  least  fair  and  beautiful  of  all  the 
clusters ;  and  they  have  all  ripened,  and  the  tree  is 
bending  with  its  precious  and  golden  burden  in  rich 
maturity.     The  leaves,  it  is  true,  are  fast  falling  off, 
because,  under  the  providence  of  the  Great  Husband- 
man —  a  providence  as  beneficient  as  it  is  supreme 
—  when  the  autumnal  gales  shake  the  branches,  the 
leaves  must  drop;   but  the  fruit  still  remains,  and 
there  has  been  no  unkindly  blasts,  and  no  worm  at 
the  root.     I  dare  not,"  he  continued,    "  go    farther. 
The  will  of  God  be  done ;  and,  whatever  may  be  in 
store  for  us,  for  the  little  time  which   remains,  let 
me."  said  he,  "  thank  him,  with  my  whole  soul,  for 
a  mutual  confidence  and  affection,  which  have  made 
two  hearts,  beating  in  different  bosoms,  one  heart, 
thus  fulfilling  his  word,  that  they  twain   shall  be 


LETTER    CXV.  31 

but  one  single."  May  your  experience  be  as  happy 
as  his,  and,  if  it  can  be,  a  thousand  times  more 
happy ! 

It  is  not  possible  in  a  hurried  letter,  — for  out  of  a 
hurry  I  now  despair  of  ever  escaping,  and  the  sun 
has  got  so  low  in  my  sky,  that  what  I  do  I  must  do 
quickly, — to  give  you  any  thing  like  an  account  of 
my  residence  in  England.  I  believe  no  man  was 
ever  treated  more  kindly ;  no  man  ever  more  grate- 
fully appreciated  that  kindness,  and  no  one  in  the 
same  time  ever  enjoyed  more.  The  only  abatement 
has  been,  that  I  could  not  have  with  me,  as  partici- 
pants, those  whose  happiness  would  give  an  increased 
zest  to  all  my  pleasures. 

In  due  time  my  friends  shall  hear  from  me.  I 
saw  Mr.  Armstrong  on  my  visit  to  Clinton ;  but  my 
visits  in  the  neighborhood  of  Bristol  have  been  agri- 
cultural, and  with  persons  who  have  little  sympathy 
with  liberal  minds  of  that  cast.  I  liked  him  much. 
The  life  of  Blanco  White  often  speaks  of  him.  I 
heard  him  preach  a  sermon  of  an  hour  and  a  half 
in  London.  His  style  is  too  expansive.  There  was 
much  good  matter  ;  but  he  seemed  to  take  it  for 
granted  that  his  audience  were  to  be  taken  upon  his 
knee,  and  to  be  taught  their  a-b-abs.  Some  of  us 
old  fellows  are  not  willing  to  "  sit  up"  as  the  chil- 
dren say,  in  the  class,  and  especially  one  of  us  who 
are  already  bald,  are  rather  restive  under  the  raps  of 
a  school-dame's  thimble.  Old  men  grow  fastidious. 
Those  who  have  themselves  been  preachers  are  apt 
to  become  fault-finders.  Pew  men  have  any  ade- 
quate or  just  conceptions  of  the  sublime,  elevated, 


32  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

celestial  character  of  religion.  The  God  of  most 
ministers  is  a  great  man,  and  they  are  the  principal 
personages  at  court,  through  whose  kind  offices  only- 
are  the  multitude  to  be  presented.  Now  make  all 
these  allowances  and  qualifications  in  respect  to  my 
judgment,  when  I  tell  you,  that  the  preaching  here 
is  not  always  to  my  taste.  Church-going,  however, 
in  the  morning  for  the  great,  in  the  afternoon  for  the 
servants,  is  much  in  fashion  ;  the  outward  respect  for 
religion  is  most  marked.  1  have  no  doubt  there  is  a 
great  deal  of  real  piety  among  all  sects ;  and  the 
liberal  part  of  the  community,  from  the  controversial 
position  in  which  they  have  been  placed,  are  remark- 
ably well  established  in  their  faith.  It  is  a  fact 
worthy  of  notice,  that  of  the  many  families  in  which 
I  have  domiciled,  noble  and  gentle,  I  have  scarcely 
been  in  any,  certainly  not  one  in  five,  where  there 
was  not  regular  domestic  worship  every  day.  If  a 
chaplain  was  kept,  he  officiated  —  if  no  chaplain,  the 
master  of  the  house  ;  or  if  he  were  absent,  and  some- 
times when  he  is  present,  the  mother  or  one  of  the 
children  would  read  prayers,  and  the  worship  is 
always  on  the  knees.  This  is  delightful.  On  pub- 
lic occasions,  and  in  private  parties,  the  laity  as  often 
say  grace  as  the  clergy ;  indeed,  it  usually  falls  to 
the  president  of  the  day  to  give  a  blessing  and  return 
thanks.  I  have  heard  the  Duke  of  Richmond,  Earl 
Hardwicke,  Earl  Spencer,  Sir  Charles  Morgan,  and 
many  others  do  it.  The  grace  is  always  short.  This 
seems  to  me  to  be  as  it  should  be,  and  you  then  get 
rid  of  those  long  occasional  graces,  which  are  some- 
times only  ebullitions  of  cant  or  vanity. 


LETTER    CXV. 


33 


About  autographs,  I  can  only  say,  I  will  do  what 
I  am  able.  I  gave  Livermore  several.  I  opine  he 
might  have  been  collecting  for  you,  and  that  you 
have  taken  the  fish  out  of  his  basket.  I  have  Dr. 
Price's  —  a  letter;  and  Judge  Jeffries',  and  the  Duke 
of  Wellington's,  and  Lord  Brougham's,  and  Carlyle's  ; 
and  Dickens',  and  Mrs.  Jameson's,  and  several  others. 
All  these  you  shall  have  if  you  really  want  them  for 
yourself,  but  not  as  a  trading  capital.  I  am  promised 
Dr.  Priestley's,  and  Rammohun  Roy's.  These,  too, 
shall  be  yours,  if  I  get  them.     I  think  I  can  get  Mrs. 

N 's.     Before  I  learned  her  name,  1  thought 

her  perfectly  beautiful,,  and  extremely  eloquent,  at- 
tractive, and  agreeable.  Yet  she  is  not  the  only  star 
in  my  sky,  nor  even  the  brightest  constellation. 

So  all  the  household  are  about  you ;  what  a  de- 
lightful coterie !  how  I  wish  I  could  make  you  for 
one  half  hour  widen  the  circle  and  let  me  put  my 
chair  in,  or  even  let  me  come  and  sit  down  on  the 
footstool  of  my  dear  old  friend.  Madam  Q,.,  and  look 
into  all  the  bright  eyes  sparkling  around  me,  brighter 
than  the  gems  which  I  have  seen  in  the  diadem  of 
majesty.  In  such  a  case,  if  I  had  a  window  in  my 
bosom,  like  the  poor  soldier  at  Washington,  and  you 
unbuttoned  my  waistcoat, — unbutton  it!  it  would 
come  open  of  itself,  and  the  buttons  would  fly  into 
the  air !  I  think  you  would  see  the  pot  boil  harder 
than  you  ever  yet  saw  it.  Is  such  delight  in  store 
for  a  poor  forlorn  exile  ? 

Ask  my  friend,  S d .,  if  her  harp  is  upon 

the  willows.  I  have  been  sometime  looking  for  the 
footmarks  of  her  kind  and  flowing  pen.     At  this  sea- 

voL,.  n.  2>* 


34  EUROPEAN    LlfE    AND    MANNERS. 

son  of  kind  gifts,  I  hold  my  hat  out  to  all  of  you,  and 
pray  you  to  contribute  of  your  abundance.  Send 
me  a  Round-Robin,  — 

"  Pity  the  sorrows  of  a  poor  old  man," — 

you  know  the  rest. 

I  am  glad  Everett  is  to  be  President  of  the  Univer- 
sity. He  has  great  learning,  a  fine  classical  taste,  a 
distinguished  reputation,  and  eminent  accomplish- 
ments. He  was  universally  and  extremely  well  re- 
ceived among  the  English,  and  did  an  immense  deal 
in  conciliating  their  esteem  and  establishing  a  good 
understanding  between  the  two  countries.  I  have 
always  respected  and  highly  esteemed  him,  and  have 
every  reason  to  speak  well  of  him.  Mr.  duincy's 
presidential  sun  went  down  in  undimmed  and  full- 
orbed  splendor.  Even  its  sitting  rays  were  warm  to 
my  heart.  "  Let  not  him  that  putteth  on  the  harness 
boast  himself  like  him  that  putteth  it  oflf,"  after  an 
honest  and  faithful  day's  work. 

Greetings  of  love  to  all  the  brethren,  —  I  dare  not 

discriminate.     I  got   good   L 's  letter  to-night, 

that  disciple  of  St.  John.  I  cannot  now  answer  it, 
but  by  a  kind  acknowledgement,  which  I  entrust  to 
you. 

I  do  n't  believe  you  did  your  own  kind  wife  jus- 
tice. I  dare  say  she  sent  me  her  love  instead  of  re- 
gards,  and  you,  a  mean,  selfish  fellow,  kept  it  back ; 
now  mind,  I  send  my  lov^  to  her.  Pray  write  again. 
Adieu. 


LETTER    CXVl.  35 


LETTER  CXVL 

London,  1845. 
My  Dear  A : 

I  HAVE  spoken  to  you  of  the  housekeeping  in  Eng- 
land, and  you  have  desired  more  details.  It  is  not  a 
'  subject  on  which  a  gentleman  is  very  competent  to 
speak,  excepting  so  far  as  his  own  comfort  is  con- 
cerned, and  yet  he  may  observe  the  movings  of  the 
machinery,  and  enjoy  as  much  as  those  more  directly 
concerned  ;  seeing  the  various  operations  going  on 
without  delay,  noise,  or  friction,  and  the  results  pro- 
duced with  perfect  regularity  and  completeness.  In 
England,  this  is  constantly  to  be  admired,  and  the 
preeminent  characteristics  of  English  housekeeping, 
are  neatness,  punctuality,  order,  quiet,  and  comfort. 
The  neatness  is  most  remarkable  ;  the  punctuality 
most  correct ;  the  order  such  that  nothing  ever  seems 
to  be  out  of  place ;  the  quiet  delightful.  I  have 
never  heard  a  scolding  word  or  a  harsh  or  fault- 
finding epithet  addressed  to  a  servant,  and  the  comfort 
is  all  that  any  reasonable  man  can  desire. 

Much  of  this  results  from  their  peculiar  institutions, 
as  a  diversity  of  ranks  conduces  with  all  classes  most 
essentially  to  good  manners.  Men  occupy  different 
places,  and  every  one  seems  to  know  his  place,  and 
so  difficult  is  any  change,  and  such  is  the  force  of 
education  and  habit,  that  every  one  seems  contented 
with  his  position.     Servants  are  trained  to  be  ser- 


36  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

vants,  and  expect  to  live  and  die  servants  ;  and  mas- 
ters and  mistresses  are  restrained  by  a  feeling  of  the 
dependence  of  others  upon  them  ;  and  it  is  a  matter 
perfectly  established  and  well  worthy  of  observation, 
that  persons  born  to  command,  and  accustomed  from 
their  childhood  to  have  the  service  of  others,  are  not 
half  so  likely  to  abuse  or  misuse  that  power,  as  the 
man  to  whom  such  power  is  a  sudden  or  unexpected 
acquisition.  The  highest  nobleman,  of  one  of  the 
most  ancient  families,  is  far  more  likely  to  be  simple 
in  all  his  habits  and  tastes  and  manners,  and  more 
considerate  of  the  comfort  of  his  servants,  and  far 
less  imperious  and  domineering  than  the  great  man, 
who,  from  a  low  condition  in  life,  has  suddenly  ac- 
quired wealth  and  power. 

I  may  speak  of  the  housekeeping  of  the  middle 
classes  at  another  time.  My  present  object  is  to  give 
you  a  list  of  the  servants  in  some  great  families,  to 
show  you  their  number  and  their  different  occupa- 
tions. I  shall  violate  no  private  confidence  in  doing 
this,  because  they  were  given  to  me  with  the  ex- 
press understanding  that  I  might  use  them,  and  the 
regulations  will  be  found  creditable  to  the  parties 
concerned.  In  establishments  where  there  are  thiity, 
forty,  fifty,  and  sometimes  even  a  hundred  servants, 
(I  knew  indeed  one  case  where  one  hundred  and 
eleven  were  daily  fed  in  the  servants'  hall,)  the 
utmost  regularity  is  indispensable  ;  and  to  maintain 
comfort,  and  quiet  and  order,  the  discipline  must  be 
as  strict  as  in  an  army,  or  on  board  a  ship  of  war. 
Every  thing  would  be  thrown  into  confusion  with- 
out it. 


LETTER   CXVI.  37 

The  following  is  the  list  in  one  house.  One  gen- 
eral steward  and  cashier;  next  the  house  steward, 
who  hires  all  the  servants  and  provides  the  food. 
Groom  of  the  chamber,  and  travelling  steward.  Yalet 
to  his  Lordship.  Man-cook,  confectioner,  five  foot- 
men in  livery,  three  coachmen  in  livery,  two  postil- 
lions in  livery,  eight  grooms  in  livery,  who  have  the 
care  of  the  saddle  horses ;  ten  hostlers,  one  house- 
keeper, four  ladies'  maids,  four  cook-maids,  three  still- 
room  maids,  who  get  tea,  6cc.  ;  six  house-maids,  six 
laundry-maids,  one  man-baker,  one  baker's  maid,  one 
cook's  boy,  one  usher  of  servants'  room,  one  stew- 
ard's-room  boy,  one  post-boy,  one  coal-man,  three, 
and  sometimes  five,  charcoal-men  ;  one  shepherd  and 
butcher,  one  game-keeper,  one  under-keeper,  two 
"  naughters,"  (i.  e.,  men  who  have  the  care  of  the 
family  cows,)  two  milk  and  dairy  women,  two  sad- 
dlers, one  park-keeper,  four  blacksmiths,  one  groom 
with  eight  or  ten  under  him,  looking  after  racers  and 
hunters ;  one  tutor,  one  governess  ;  one  chaplain, 
who  is  seen  always  at  morning  or  evening  prayers, 
but  lives  in  a  separate  house.  Now  what  do  you 
think  of  the  comfort  of  such  an  establishment  as  this  ? 
This  nobleman  has  another,  about  fifty '  miles  from 
this,  where  he  resides  a  part  of  the  year,  and  which 
is  larger  than  this;  and  still  another  establishment  in 
London.  Some  of  his  servants  are  transferred  with 
him,  but  many  of  them  remain.  He  has  in  his  ser- 
vice, on  his  home  estate,  which  may  all  be  said  to 
come  under  the  same  direct  superintendence,  eighteen 
hundred  and  fifteen  persons.     Adieu. 


38         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 


LETTER  CXVII. 

London,  1845. 
My  Dear  M : 

I  HAVE  not  much  adventure  to  relate  since  I  last 
wrote.  Mr.  Courage  went  down  with  me  last  week 
about  fifty  miles  into  Kent,  to  see  the  cultivation  ;  to 
learn  how  hops  and  filberts  are  grown,  and  to  look  at 
Lord  Torrington's  new  farm  buildings,  on  an  im- 
proved model. 

The  country  is  among  the  most  beautiful  and  the 
best  cultivated  that  I  have  seen.  On  Friday,  pursu- 
ant to  a  promise  I  had  made  some  months  since,  I 
went  on  a  visit  to  Mr.  Nicholson,  in  Surry,  who  was 
to  give  me  notice  when  to  come,  that  I  might  see 
the  best  cultivation  of  hops  in  the  kingdom,  and  the 
most  approved  mode  of  curing  them.  Nothing  could 
be  more  agreeable  than  my  visit.  The  place  is 
called  Waverly  Abbey,  from  the  ruins  of  an  old 
abbey  and  cathedral  directly  in  front  of  the  house, 
the  foundation  of  which  dates  as  far  back  as  1127. 
Most  of  the  building  is  gone,  but  several  large  frag- 
ments remain,  sufiicient  to  show  the  extent  and  the 
style  of  its  architecture.  Large  trees  are  growing 
now  in  the  centre  of  the  building,  where  the  altar 
stood  ;  bushes  are  projecting  themselves  from  different 
parts  of  the  old  walls ;  and  the  whole  is  covered 
with  tlie  richest  mantle  of  ivy.  It  is  an  exceedingly 
picturesque  object.     On  the  lawn  beyond,  is  a  con- 


LETTER    CXVII.  39 

siderable  sheet  of  water ;  and  the  ruins  are  cherished 
with  even  more  care  than  the  original  edifice.  Mr. 
Nicholson  long  since  retired  from  the  profession  of 
the  law,  and  now  lives,  with  his  highly  cultivated 
family,  in  this  elegant  retreat,  filled  with  articles  of 
luxury  and  works  of  art. 

I  found,  on  my  arrival  at  noon,  that  he  had  en- 
gaged me  to  dine  with  a  large  party  of  ladies  and 
gentlemen,  noble  and  gentle,  at  a  house  about  five 
miles  distant,  where  we  went  at  seven  o'clock,  and 
returned  home  about  twelve.  On  Saturday  we  spent 
the  day  in  various  excursions ;  to  see  farms  where 
the  owners  had  one  hundred  and  fifty  acres  in  hops, 
and  I  don't  know  how  many  families  of  gipsies  and 
others  encamped  in  the  neighborhood  to  assist  in  the 
picking.  We  returned  in  the  evening  to  an  agree- 
able dinner  at  his  house. 

Sunday,  went  to  church  in  the  morning,  and  spent 
the  rest  of  the  day  in  finishing  Mr.  Lyell's  very  fair 
and  candid  travels  in  America,  and  reading  the  inter- 
esting memoirs  of  Blanco  White  ;  and  towards  night 
by  railroad  and  gig  went  eighteen  miles  with  Mr. 

N ,  to   dine    and  lodge   at  Sir  John   Easthope's, 

M.  P.  Here  was  another  small  but  most  agreeable 
party.  Lady  Easthope,  of  the  pleasure  of  whose 
society  I  do  not  presume  to  speak  as  I  would,  upon 
my  being  introduced  to  her,  said  at  once  that  she  had 
had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  me  before  ;  I  replied  that 
I  was  not  aware  of  having  had  that  honor.  She  then 
asked  me  if  I  did  not  recollect  presenting  her,  a  year 
and  a  half  ago,  an  elegant  bouquet  j  which,  surely,  I 


40  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

did  not.  It  seems,  at  the  great  agricultural  dinner  at 
Southampton,  where  there  were  fifteen  hundred  peo- 
ple present,  I  sat  at  the  high  table,  directly  under 
the  gallery,  which  was  filled  with  ladies,  to  hear  the 
speeches.  After  the  cloth  was  removed,  several 
beautiful  bunches  of  flowers,  which  had  been  placed 
as  ornaments  on  the  table,  remained.  I  said  to  Dr. 
Buckland,  who  sat  near  me,  that  I  had  a  mind  to 
hand  one  of  them  to  the  ladies.  Said  he,  "  It  will 
not  do  ;''  and  in  rather  a  cynical  manner,  which  dis- 
turbed me  a  little,  added,  "  such  things  may  do  in 

your  country,  but  they  won't  do  here."     Mr.  C , 

a  distinguished  member  of  Parliament,  who  heard 
the  remarks,  said  at  once,  "It  will  do  —  do  it ;"  and 
I  immediately  took  two  of  the  finest  bunches,  and 
stood  up  in  a  chair  and  presented  them  to  the  ladies 
who  were  nearest  to  me.  Nothing  could  be  more 
gracious  than  the  manner  in  which  they  received  the 
compliment,  and  the  whole  building  rang  with  ap- 
plause from  all  who  witnessed  the  action.  Immedi- 
ately, several  other  gentlemen  sprang  upon  their  feet 
and  followed  my  example,  in  presenting  the  bouquets 
near  them,  and  there  was  a  tremendous  clapping  of 
hands  and  cheering  above  and  below.  Lady  East- 
hope  says  that  she  and  Lady  Palmerston  were  those 
who  received  the  boquets  from  me.  They  were  both 
delighted  with  the  act,  and  took  pains  to  learn  my 
name.  She  added  that  she  recognised  me  the  moment 
I  came  in,  which,  considering  the  circumstances,  and 
the  lapse  of  time,  showed,  at  least  on  her  part,  a  very 
strong  individuality.     Now,  all  this  was  said  to  me 


LETTER    CXVII.  41 

in  the  most  civil  manner  possible,  and  to  her  husband 
and  the  party,  and  served,  of  course,  as  a  very  good 
introduction. 

I  remained  at  Fir  Grove,  to  look  at  Sir  John's  im- 
provements, which  are  quite  worth  seeing,  and  re- 
turned to  town  at  night,  after  an  engagement  to 
repeat  my  visit,  if  possible,  and  had  the  pleasure,  on 
arrival,  of  getting  my  letters.  To-morrow  I  go  by 
rail  about  sixty  miles,  to  see  a  farm  where  some 
remarkable  crops  are  growing,  and  some  extraordi- 
nary improvements  have  been  made,  and  to  look  at 
an  agricultural  implement  establishment,  to  return 
the  next  day,  and  to  remain  fixed  to  my  table  until 
my  report  is  forwarded. 

Please   give  my  best  regards  to  Mrs.  ;   tell 

her  that  I  have  received  two  long  letters  from  her 
sister,  who  is  now  enjoying  herself  to  the  very  brim, 
at  Genoa.  I  wish  I  could  send  you  her  last  letter, 
which  was  highly  descriptive  of  the  natural  scenery, 
and  quite  brilliant. 

I  have  heard  of  Judge  Story's  death  with  real 
grief.  He  was  one  of  my  best  friends  ;  a  man  of 
eminent  talents ;  of  most  comprehensive  and  inde- 
fatigable industry  ;  full  of  public  spirit  and  private 
affections ;  distinguished  for  his  services  to  his 
country,  and  not  less  so  for  those  domestic  virtues, 
and  that  blandness  of  manners  which  constitute  the 
charm  and  delight  of  private  life.     Adieu. 


42  EUKOPEJAN   WFK    AND   MANNERS. 


LETTER  CXVIII. 

London,  31st  December,  1845. 
My  Dear  S : 

I  HOPE  this  will  reach  you  beginning  a  new  year 
in  the  enjoyment  of  the  greatest  of  all  earthly  bles- 
sings —  a  sound  mind  in  a  sound  body  ;  busy,  buoy- 
ant, and  bright  as  ever,  making  other  people  happy 
by  the  cheerfulness  reflected  from  your  own  eyes, 
and  rendering  your  new  and  luxurious  home  as  com- 
fortable as  good  housewifery  can  make  it ;  and  every 
part  of  it  radiant  with  the  pure  pleasures  which 
spring  from  kind  affections,  gentle  manners,  unruflied 
temper,  and  all  the  precious  and  benignant  influen- 
ces of  love,  good  breeding,  cultivated  minds,  refined 
taste,  and  grateful,  unaffected,  silent,  and  unobtrusive 
piety.  This  is  a  furnishing  which  the  art  of  the  most 
skilful  upholsterer  cannot  rival  or  even  approach,  and 
which  the  gilded  drapery  and  resplendent  lustres  of 
courts  and  palaces  may  well  envy.  God  bless  yom 
and  yours  forever  and  for  aye. 

My  intercourse  with  you  is  so  frequent,  that  really 
I  have  nothing  to  communicate ;  and  you  see  so 
many  persons  who  have  seen  me,  that  it  would  be 
quite  a  work  of  supererogation  to  talk  about  myself. 
Dr.  Robbins,  I  dare  say,  has  found  his  way,  by  in- 
stinct or  habit  to  your  fireside,  and  has  retailed  the 

wonders  of  London ;  and  if  you  have  seen ,  I 

dare  say  he  has  given  you  the  history  of  his  sojourn 


LETTER    CXVIII. 


43 


I 


here,  with  various  poetical  embellishments.  He 
ought  never  to  come  again  without  his  wife  ;  and  if 
he  can  get  two,  I  advise  him  by  all  means  to  bring 
both,  that  one,  if  possible  may  occasionally  relieve 
the  other ;  for,  certainly,  no  man  was  ever  less  patient 
of  solitude. 

The  season,  properly  so-called,  does  not  commence 
until  Parliament  has  been  in  session  about  a  month, 
and  this  year  Parliament  assembles  on  the  20th  of 
January.  The  political  sky  is  stormy  and  threaten- 
ing, and  the  waves  will  run  high  ;  but  I'  do  not  know 
what  can  abate  or  restrain  the  thirst  for  pleasure, 
which  rules  triumphant  here  for  about  four  months, 
until,  in  fact,  it  dies  out  of  pure  exhaustion. 

Dinner  parties  are  matters  of  every  day  occurrence, 
and  people  are  often  invited  three  weeks  beforehand, 
in  order  to  insure  a  company ;  and  balls  and  routs, 
and  concerts,  and  plays,  and  operas,  &c.,  &-c.,  follow 
in  succession,  so  that  the  extreme  fashionables  often 
go  to  three  and  four  parties  of  an  evening,  not  begin- 
ning certainly  until  ten  or  eleven  o'clock.  If  it  were 
'not  for  their  rides,  their  habit  of  living  in  the  open 
air,  and,  above  all,  their  perfect  abandonment  to  rural 
recreations  four  or  five  months  in  the  year,  it  would 
be  impossible  for  any  human  constitution  to  endure 
the  fatigues  which  they  go  through. 

The  theatres  are  not  yet  in  full  blast ;  the  Italian 
Opera  does  not  open  until  February,  yet  those  which 
are  open  are  crowded  every  night.  At  present  Miss 
Cushman  and  her  sister  have  just  come  out  in  Romeo 
and  Juliet,  and  I  am  told  by  those  who  have  seen 
them,  that  their  success,  especially  that  of  the  elder, 


44         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

is  triumphant.  Her  appearance  in  a  male  character, 
however  successful,  will,  I  fear,  cause  her  to  lose 
caste,  and  exclude  her  from  the  intercourse  of  the 
truly  refined,  or  at  least  prevent  her  being  received 
on  the  same  footing  as  before. 

The  best  conducted  theatres  here  are  a  source  of 
delightful  entertainment,  and  nothing  is  witnessed 
within  them  to  offend  good  morals  or  a  refined  taste. 
It  is  not  a  new  opinion  of  my  own,  but  confirmed 
most  strongly  by  a  mature  judgment,  that  theatres 
are  a  most  innocent  and  delightful,  and  in  large  cities, 
a  necessary  recreation. 

I  hear  you  are  to  have  Mr.  Peabody  for  your  min- 
ister. From  what  I  learn,  I  don't  know  whether  it 
is  a  victory  or  an  acquisition.  I  know  no  more  agree- 
able man,  and  with  the  exception  of ,  few  more 

agreeable  preachers.  "If  religion  consisted  in  going 
to  church  and  hearing  good  sermons,  I  should  think 
you  were  likely  to  be  very  well  provided  for;  but 
this  is  no  essential  part  of  religion,  properly  so  called, 
and  merely  a  means  of  making  people  better,  and 
only  one  of  the  steps  in  a  Christian  education.  What 
passes  for  Christianity  in  the  world  is  infinitely  below 
its  true  character ;  and  one  simple  act  of  justice 
and  charity  is  worth  more  than  any  of  the  prayers 
and  preaching  that  were  ever  delivered.     I  do  not 

wish,  my  dear  S ,  in  uttering  these  opinions,  to 

obtrude  upon  your  sentiments  ;  with  them  you  know 
I  have  always  scrupulously  avoided  to  interfere ;  but 
in  a  subject  so  important,  and  so  deeply  concerning 
our  happiness  and  improvement,  no  candid  mind  will 
object  to  the  honest  expression  of  an  honest  opinion. 


LETTER    CXVIIl.  46 

The  whole  of  religion,  in  my  belief,  consists  in 
doing  one's  duty  faithfully  towards  God  and  man,  in 
living  innocently  and  uprightly,  in  works  of  active 
usefulness,  in  the  faithful  discipline  of  one's  heart 
and  character,  and  the  humble  and  silent  cultivation 
and  exercise  of  trust,  resignation,  and  reverence 
towards  God,  and  universal  love  towards  man. 

Public  worship,  I  think,  should  be  maintained  for 
the  sake  of  public  order,  education,  and  peace,  and  as 
a  prompter  of  good  manners  and  morals ;  and  if  we 
must,  once  a  week,  give  one  or  two  hours  to  such  a 
service,  it  is  most  desirable  to  hear  the  instructions 
and  opinions  of  men  whom  we  can  respect  for  their 
good  sense  and  good  morals.  The  indifferent  matter 
which  one  often  hears  from  the  pulpit  is  almost  past 
endurance,  and  the  most  sensible  pcirt  of  the  commu- 
nity listen  to  it  with  impatience,  not  to  say  disgust. 
One  of  the  first  men  in  the  kingdom  told  me,  last 
week,  "  there  must  be  some-  improvement  in  these 
matters,  or  the  whole  affair  would  be  given  up ; 
because,  while  every  thing  else  is  in  a  course  of  pro- 
gress, preaching  seems  to  have  made  no  advance." 
I  am  not  of  his  opinion.  If  the  generations  coming 
on  the  stage  could  start  where  those  who  are  depart- 
ing leave  off,  there  would  be  some  hope ;  but  like 
those  who  have  gone  before,  they  must  begin  with 
the  alphabet  and  learn  the  first  rudiments  ;  and,  there- 
fore, matters  are  likely  to  remain  as  they  are,  and  I 
have  no  very  strong  hope  of  human  improvement. 
Mankind  gain  little  by  the  experience  of  others. 

I  suppose  you  have  seen  Dickens'  Christmas  book, 
—  "The  Cricket  on  the  Hearth."     It  is  very  beau- 


46         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

tiful ;  but  one  of  its  great  merits  consists  in  giving 
him  £2,000,  and  probably  much  more,  as  20,000 
copies  were  ordered  by  the  booksellers  before  its 
publication;  and  here,  in  such  cases,  it  is  always 
cash  and  no  credit.  Five  shillings  a  copy,  as  a  book- 
seller informed  me,  would  give  him  two  shillings  a 
copy  profit,  or  40,000  shillings,  that  is  £2,000,  or 
$10,000,  —  so  much  for  popularity.*  The  book  is 
Dickens  all  over.  Some  of  the  characters  and  scenes 
are  extremely  well  drawn. 

I  do  not  like  to  speak  of  character,  or  I  would  tell 
you  of  many  persons  whom  I  meet  with ;  but  this 

must  be  reserved  for  viva  voce.     Mrs.  ,  whom  I 

know  intimately,  is  a  particular  favorite,  and  so  unaf- 
fected and  good-mannered  and  intelligent  that  she 
is   everywhere    popular.     But   one   of  the  brightest 

gems  I   have  ever  seen  is  Mrs.  ;  great  as  her 

husband  is  in  intellectual  power,  she  is  much  before 
him,  and,  certainly,  I  have  never  known  a  brighter 
or  more  beautiful  mind,  yet  under  a  plain  and  unat- 
tractive exterior.  In  Miss  Edgerworth  you  see  out- 
lines of  a  noble  edifice  in  a  green  old  age  ;  one  ven- 
erates her  for  what  she  has  been  and  done.     Mrs. 

N ,  to  whom  I  was  introduced,  without  hearing 

her  name,  and  who  was  assigned  to  me  to  hand  in 
and  to  sit  by  at  dinner,  — a  matter  which  is  always 


♦  The  above  is  current  rumor.  It  was  stated  to  me  positively,  by  a 
respectable  person,  who  assured  me  she  knew  the  fact,  that  for  "  The 
Cricket  on  the  Hearth,"  Mr.  Dickens  received  £5,000,  and  that  28,000 
copies  were  sold  in  one  day.  It  seemed  so  extraordinary  that  I  feared 
some  error,  and  scarcely  dared  repeat,  though  at  the  time  I  recorded  the 
statement.  Compare  this  with  the  £10  paid  to  Milton  for  his  "  Paradise 
Lostf"  and  times  seemed  changca. 


LETTER    CXIX.  47 

done  here  by  the  lady  of  the  house,  —  I  judged  of 
without  prejudice  as  one  of  the  handsomest,  most 
intelligent,  most  eloquent,  most  agreeable  persons  I 
had  ever  met  with.  These  are  the  first  characters 
I  have  given  since  I  came  this  side  of  the  water,  and 
they  are  for  your  own  private  eye.  The  new  year 
has  been  already  announced,  and  the  bells  have  ceased 
their  merry  peal.     Adieu. 


LETTER  CXIX. 

London,  1st  January,  1846. 
My  Deak  Sih: 

I  AM  not  wilUing  that  the  new  year  should  com- 
mence, without  offering  you,  I  won't  say  the  usual 
"compliments  of  the  season,"  but  my  hearty  good 
wishes  for  your  health  and  happiness,  and  all  the 
success  which  you  can  desire.  May  you  live  as  long 
as  you  wish  to  live,  and  be  as  happy  as  you  can  be. 

The  intercourse  with  England,  from  your  side  of 
the  water,  is  now  so  constant  and  varied,  that  one 
has  nothing  to  communicate,  which  does  not  find  its 
way  to  you  by  various  channels.  The  great  question 
which  agitates  the  public  mind  here,  in  which  we 
have  a  chief  interest,  is  that  of  war.  The  papers  on 
both  sides  are  surcharged  with  venom,  and  seem  to 
have  a  peculiar  pleasure  in  keeping  up  the  causes  of 
irritation.  After  having  taken  off  the  blistering  plas- 
ter, and  removed    the  raised   skin,  they  choose  to 


4$  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

return  it  upon  the  raw  flesh.  The  occasional  abuses 
and  licentiousness  of  the  press,  are  less  to  be  depre- 
cated than  the  restraints  and  severe  censorship  prev- 
alent in  despotic  countries ;  but  we  may  be  thankful 
that  our  national  concerns  are  not  left  to  be  settled  by 
our  newspaper  editors,  or  we  should  be  in  hot  water 
from  one  years'  end  to  another.  I  read  Mr.  Polk's 
message,  so  far  as  Oregon  was  concerned,  with  satis- 
faction, though  I  cannot  understand  why,  when  Great 
Britain  refused  one  proposition,  another,  admitted  to 
be  less  advantageous,  should  be  submitted  to  her. 
This  seemed  very  much  like  child's  play ;  but  I 
regard  the  general  character  of  the  message  as  pacific  ; 
and,  with  the  views  of  the  United  States  of  theii; 
title  to  the  territory  in  question,  I  do  not  know  that 
he  could  have  said  less,  or  that  more  could  have  been 
done  to  bring  the  dispute  to  an  amicable  termination. 
My  difficulty  is,  to  know  what  right  either  of  the 
powers  has  to  the  territory  in  question.  Though 
every  good  man  feels  concerned  that  any  causes  of 
ill  humor  should  exist  between  the  two  countries,  I 
have  not  met  with  a  single  man  of  any  respectability  , 
who  can  believe  it  possible  that  two  such  countries, 
so  connected  by  kindred,  business,  and  a  thousand 
strong  associations,  should  be  willing  to  plunge  into 
the  horrors,  and  expose  themselves  to  the  uncertain 
results  of  a  war,  for  a  territory  of  little  value  to  either 
country  in  itself,  and  which  must,  in  the  natural  pro- 
gress of  events,  belong  to  those  who  settle  it. 

The  domestic  politics  of  England  are  now  in  a 
most  perturbed  state,  and  the  secretiveness  of  Sir  R. 
Peel  is  so  large,  that  even  the  most  influential  and 


LETTER    CXIX.  49 

elevated  men  in  the  kingdom,  out  of  the  cabinet,  are 
ignorant  of  what  he  intends  to  propose.  The  public 
feeling  is  intense  against  the  continuance  of  the  com 
laws  ;  but  the  agricultural  protectionists  will  die  hard, 
if  they  must  die  at  all ;  and,  though  the  minister, 
with  the  promised  aid  of  the  whigs,  may  carry  his 
measures  in  the  Commons,  the  result  in  the  House 
of  Peers  is  questionable.  The  immediate  creation  of 
peers,  with  a  view  to  obtain  a  majority,  is  what  no 
one  scarcely  thinks  of,  and  what  certainly  Sir  R.  P., 
in  the  present  state  of  his  relation  to  parties,  dare 
not  attempt ;  and  a  dissolution  of  Parliament  and  a 
new  election  would  just  now  shake  the  kingdom  to 
its  centre,  and  be  of  very  uncertain  issue.  One  thing 
seems  quite  obvious."  I  think  I  have  witnessed  a 
large  progress  since  my  residence  here.  The  demo- 
cratic principle  is  making  immense  strides.  The 
aristocracy  must  yield,  in  a  degree,  if  they  mean  to 
hold  what  they  hav^e  got,  and,  if  they  begin  to  yield, 
the  prestige,  which  has  hitherto  secured  them,  is 
gone.  Any  attempts  to  govern  this  community  by 
direct  force  would  certainly  be  met  by  open  and  suc- 
cessful resistance ;  and  the  government  must  trim 
their  sails,  in  a  considerable  degree,  to  public  opinion, 
or  the  vessel  never  can  be  got  into  port,  or  scarcely 
kept  afloat.  The  meeting,  at  Covent  Garden  The- 
atre, of  the  Anti-corn-law  League,  a  few  evenings 
since,  was  a  most  extraordinary  one.  I  got  in  at  the 
peril  of  my  life,  for  there  was  the  greatest  danger  of 
being  crushed  against  the  pillars  and  fence.  Six 
thousand  persons  were  as  closely  packed  inside  as 
the  wooden  pavements  in  the  street,  and  thirty  thou- 
VOL.  ir.  3 


50  EUIIOPEAN    LIFE    ANL)     MANNERS. 

sand  were  refused  admission.  The  house,  most  of 
the  time,  was  a  perfect  sea  in  a  storm.  The  tone  of 
the  speeches  was  most  determined  and  fearless ;  all 
terms  of  compromise  were  scornfully  spurned :  and 
the  bold  and  threatning  denunciations  of  the  aristoc- 
racy were  received  with  shouts  perfectly  ruffian  and 
savage.  Nothing  seems  to  me  more  terrible  than  an 
excited  mob.  Here  sympathy  is  electric,  and  all 
sense  of  individual  responsibility  is  gone.  In  many 
cases,  one  may  calculate  upon  equal  chances  of 
escape  as  he  would  if  his  canoe  had  already  entered 
the  rapids  above  the  great  falls  of  Niagara.  Cobden 
is  a  man  of  extraordinary  power  and  extremely  fasci- 
nating address.  Bright  is  a  sort  of  Quaker,  plain- 
spoken,  fearless,  denunciatory,  and  excessively  bitter, 
because  he  has  been  often  baited,  both  in  and  out  of 
Parliament,  and  scents  the  hounds  before  they  get 
upon  his  track,  and,  so  far  from  flying,  seems  to  delight 
in  turning  round  and  holding  them  at  bay,  occasion- 
ally stopping  the  yelping  of  a  cur  by  the  slap  of  his 
tail,  or  tossing  a  fierce  mastiff  upon  his  horns  high 
in  the  air.  Fox  is  a  man  of  superior  ability,  profuse 
in  words,  and  dealing  much  in  sarcasm ;  but,  in  spite 
of  all  this,  changing  the  profound  attention  of  his  audi- 
ence, stirring  the  deep  waters  to  the  very  bottom, 
and  producing  effects  like  letting  off  the  steam  at  the 
close  of  a  voyage.  His  power  over  an  assembly  is 
tremendous.  I  shall  send  you  the  I/cague,  which 
contains  the  several  speeches.  I  was  amazed  when 
I  heard  Mr.  Fox's  bold  attack  upon  the  Duke  of 
Wellington,  and  felt  some  little  concern  at  being 
within  arms  length  of  him  on  the  stage,  for  I  did  not 


LETTER    CXIX.  51 

suppose  any  assault  upon  the  nation's  military  idol 
would  have  been  tolerated  for  a  moment  in  an  assem- 
bly of  Englishmen  ;  but,  to  my  astonishment,  it  was 
listened  to  with  breathless  silence,  and  its  close  pro- 
duced a  perfect  hurricane  of  applause.  Pray  read  his 
speech  in  the  League. 

I  see  a  great  deal  of  our  minister,  Mr.  McLane,  and 
his  family,  and  like  them  as  much  as  it  is  possible  to 
like  persons  of  whom  I  do  not  know  more.  He  is 
eminently  popular  here  among  the  Americans.  He 
has  good  sense,  a  perfect  consciousness  of  what  is 
due  to  himself,  no  hankering  after  favor  and  popu- 
larity, an  extreme  frankness  in  the  expression  of  his 
opinions,  and  an  entire  competency  to  maintain  them 
in  a  calm  and  gentlemanly  manner,  and  an  extraordi- 
nary readiness  to  oblige.  Mr.  Everett  did  as  much 
as  any  man  could  to  conciliate  the  good  feelings  of 
the  English,  and  was  held  in  universal  esteem  and 
respect  by  them.  My  intercourse  with  him  was 
most  agreeable  and  friendly.  But  his  extreme  cau- 
tion and  reserve  rendered  him  less  accessible  than 
many  desired  to  find  him.  I  have  been  frequently 
asked  what  were  his  religious  opinions.  I  never 
presumed  to  answer  such  a  question,  as,  indeed,  I 
should  think  it  impertinent  to  undertake  to  do  it  for 
any  man  ;  and  it  is  certainly  to  the  credit  of  his  good 
sense  and  policy,  that  he  never  mingled  his  private 
matters  with  his  political  relations,  or  rather  never 
suffered  the  latter  to  be  in  any  way  prejudiced  by  the 
former. 

The  winter,  so  far  —  though  we  can  scarcely  be 
said  to  have  had  any  fair  weather,  a  thing  which, 


52  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

properly  speaking,  is  hardly  known  in  England  — 
has  been  of  a  most  agreeable  temperature.  We  have 
had  a  snow  of  two  hours'  duration  —  a  real  New 
England  morning ;  but  the  next  two  hours  cleared  it 
all  off. 

The  state  of  the  poor  in  England,  and  the  state  oC 
crime,  are  the  most  distressing  features,  and  are 
indeed  really  distressing  features  in  her  social  condi- 
tion. People  are  continually  declaiming  against  the 
rich ;  but  I  cannot,  for  my  life,  see  that  the  poor 
man  is  the  worse  off  for  his  neighbors  being  rich, 
but  the  better,  if  he  uses  that  wealth  properly,  gets 
it  honestly,  and  does  not  abuse  his  power.  They 
say  the  fortunes  are  enormously  large  here,  and 
ought  to  be  limited.  How  are  you  to  limit  them, 
unless  you  break  up  all  the  rights  of  property,  and 
all  the  common  rules  of  trade  and  commerce  ?  The 
miserable  sweeper  at  the  crossings  of  the  street,  who 
owns  his  broom,  is  richer  than  the  poor  squalid 
wretch,  who  lays  upon  the  pavement,  without  shirt 
or  shoes.  Shall  he  call  upon  the  sweeper  to  give 
him  his  broom,  or  to  divide  his  broom,  which  the 
beggar  would  not  use,  if  he  could  get  it  ?  And  the 
division  would  only  end  in  the  injury  of  the  indus- 
trious and  hard-working  man,  without  relieving  the 
pauper.  But  I  am  entering  upon  a  large  subject,  and 
have  already  taxed  you  heavily. 


LETTER    CXX. 


53 


LETTER  CXX. 

London,  3d  February,  1846. 
My  Dear  M : 

I  SUPPOSE  you  can  hardly  have  got  through  with 
the  reading  of  my  long  letter  of  the  16th  January, 
before  this ;  but  you  must  not  be  alarmed  with  the 
prospect  of  one  as  long.  I  do  not  know  that  I  have 
any  right  to  expect  to  be  always  well ;  and  with 
even  a  very  imperfect  measure  of  health,  when  I  see 
the  thousand  objects  of  extreme  wretchedness  which 
cross  my  path  whenever  I  go  oat,  I  should  be  wicked 
to  utter  a  complaint  or  indulge  the  slightest  repining. 

I  go  now  little  into  society,  declining  many  invi- 
tations, and  making  no  visits  but  such  as  I  deem 
absolutely  necessary,  if  I  would  maintain  a  character 
for  civility.  My  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Pendarves, 
have  returned  to  London  for  the  opening  of  Parlia- 
ment, and  many  others  have  come  to  town,  but  I 
shall  play  shy,  and  my  distance  from  town  saves  me 
from  many  invitations  and  interruptions.  Having 
seen  society  here  in  all  its  various  phases  and  condi- 
tions, I  find  time  is  too  precious  for  me  to  squander. 

The  poor  sick  girl,  of  whom  I  told  you  before,  I 
saw  last  week  quietly  laid  in  her  grave  after  a  decline 
of  more  than  two  years.  Her  only  sister,  —  for  they 
were  quite  alone  in  the  world,  —  was  an  example  of 
the  most  extraordinary  and  disinterested  devotion  and 
affection.     I  saw  her  after  she  had  lost  all  power  of 


54  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

Utterance ;  but  she  knew  me.  I  think  a  more  inno- 
cent, lovely,  and  amiable  person  never  Jived.  In  the 
very  midst  of  her  sickness,  she  worked  a  pair  of  slip- 
pers for  me,  and  that  seemed  to  be  almost  the  only 
object  for  which  she  wished  her  strength  to  remain. 
I  walked  to  the  grave  with  her  sister  as  a  chief 
mourner,  as  indeed  there  were  only  half  a  dozen 
qther  people,  mere  acquaintances,  to  follow,  for  they 
had  no  relations  ;  and  now  her  sister  is  about  to  go 
under  medical  treatment  ;  for  the  same  disorder,  con- 
sumption, no  doubt  accelerated  by  her  attention  to 
her  sister,  is  making  rapid  advances  upon  her,  and 
her  fate,  as  I  think  she  herself  is  aware,  is  sealed. 
Such  extraordinary  virtue,  piety,  resignation,  and 
affectionate  devotion  to  each  other  in  humble  life, 
and  under  every  discouragement  and  difficulty,  read 
a  humiliating  lesson  to  most  of  us,  who  have  been 
always  surrounded  with  friends,  and  comforts,  and 
plenty,  and  yet  have  complained,  and  have  not  loved 
each  other  as  well  as  we  ought.  My  tears  flowed 
freely  as  I  saw  the  poor  thing  laid  quietly  in  her  last 
earthly  resting  place,  and  I  joined  the  priest  in  pray- 
ers for  her  soul ;  and  if  1  am  not  better  for  it,  God 
help  me  ! 

I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  Mr.  Edward  Newton 
and  Mrs.  Newton  and  daughter,  from  Pittsfield,  a  few 
days  ago.  He  was  extremely  cordial  and  courteous, 
and  seems  to  have  a  very  strong  attachment  to  Eng- 
land and  English  institutions.  Mr.  Newton  returns 
to  London  in  April,  to  spend  what  is  called  the  sea- 
son. I  continue  to  like  my  boarding  place,  or  I 
should  go   into  town ;  but  my  little  landlady  is  as 


LETTER    CXXI.  65 

kind  as  possible,  and  omits  nothing  that  she  can  do 
for  my  comfort.  It  is  not  home  however.  I  get 
along  tolerably  well  with  my  breakfast,  for  with  the 
newspaper  in  one  hand,  and  my  cup  of  tea  in  the 
other,  I  do  not  feel  the  want  of  society  ;  but  my 
dinners  at  home  alone,  when  I  dine  at  home,  are 
absolutely  miserable.  I  hardly  dare  speak  of  my 
nights,  when  any  indisposition  keeps  me  awake. 
I  found  on  my  return  home  the  other  evening,  a 

handsome  present  from  my  friend,  Mrs.  C ,  of  a 

capital  leather  hat-box  of  the  best  description,  and  a 
first  rate  beaver  hat  enclosed,  with  her's  and  Mr.  C.'s 
kind  regards.  It  was  not  that  my  hat  was  rusty,  for 
I  have  recently  had  a  new  one,  but  I  believe  from 
pure  good  will.  I  cannot  repay  the  attentions  which 
they  have  paid  and  are  continually  paying  to  me  and 
to  my  friends.  They  live  elegantly,  about  five  miles 
out  of  town.  I  have  a  knife  and  fork  and  a  bed 
there  whenever,  as  they  are  pleased  to  say,  I  will  do 
them  the  favor  to  occupy  them. 


LETTER  CXXI. 

TO    A    YOUNG    FRIEND. 

London,  1st  March,  1846. 
My  Dear  E : 

1  q,uiTE  agree  to  the  old  proverb,  that  "  half  a  loaf 
is  better  than  no  bread  ;  so  I  think  a  very  short  letter 
from  you  is  worth  a  great  deal  more  than  no  letter  at 


5©  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

all.     I  am  delighted  to    think  that    your  health  is 
quite  restored,  and  am  not  a  little  amused  sometimes 

with  learning  that  you  and  C have  run  up  like 

two  poplar  trees.     I  hear  you  are   as  tall  as  I  am. 
How,  then,  shall  I  feel   walking  down  Essex  Street 

with  Miss  leaning   upon  my  arm ;  and,    if  I 

don't  grow  too  stiff  before  that  time,  to  hear  people 
say  as  we  pass,  what  a  handsome  couple ! 

I  should  like  much  to  know  how  you  employ  your 
time.  I  do  not  dare  think  how  old  you  are,  nor  how 
queer  your  father  would  feel,  if  any  young  man 
should  follow  his  example,  and  ask  his  daughter  in 
marriage.  But  we  '11  not  talk  about  that ;  six  years 
hence  will  be  quite  soon  enough  for  that,  when  your 
mother  has  to  put  on  her  cap  and  spectacles,  and  send 
for  somebody  to  thread  her  needle.  Let  me  in  the 
meantime,  give  you  a  bit  of  advice :  '•  Make  hay 
while  the  sun  shines ;  "  do  not  throw  away  your 
precious  time,  —  in  truth  more  precious  than  any 
thing  else  ;  do  not  give  too  much  time  to  pleasure ; 
get  advice  as  to  what  books  you  should  read,  and 
store  your  mind  with  useful  knowledge.  Novels 
and  romances,  if  properly  selected,  are  very  useful  as 
a  recreation,  but  not  as  a  ptlrsuit.  History,  biogra- 
phy, poetry,  moral  philosophy,  and  works  of  taste 
should  be  matters  of  your  constant  study.  What 
should  we  say  of  a  young  lady  who  was  not  well 
acquainted  with  the  history  of  her  own  country,  and 
of  the  country  from  which  her  ancestors  came  ? 
Then,  again,  I  don't  know  any  more  useful  reading 
than  the  biography  of  distinguished  women.  If  they 
are  what  they  should  be,  they  do  an  immense  service 


LETTER    CXXI.  67 

in  inspiring  a  passion  for  excellence,  in  teaching  for- 
titude under  trials,  and  strengthening  a  sense  of  duty, 
and  in  presenting  before  the  mind  continually  a 
standard  of  intellectual  and  moral  attainment,  the 
aim  after  which  becomes  the  great  incentive  and 
instrument  of  success. 

Education,  as  I  have  before  reminded  you,  is  not 
so  much  to  impart  knowledge,  as  to  give  us  the 
power  of  acquiring  it  for  ourselves,  and  to  teach  us 
the  proper  use  and  application  of  our  own  talents. 

I  do  not  know,  my  dear  E ,  whether  you  have 

"  come  out  "  yet  j  I  can  only  say,  I  hope  not ;  but  I 
suppose  so  many  broods  have  picked  through  the 
shell  since  I  came  away,  and  are  now  full  fledged, 
that  on  my  return  I  shall  find  myself  among  a  com- 
munity of  strangers.  I  hope  some  few  of  the  old 
ones  will  remain  on  hand  as  monuments  of  days 
gone  by,  that  I  may  not  find  myself  entirely  alone. 

There  is  a  good  deal  which  I  should  like  to  say 
to  you,  but  I  have  no  time  to  say  it.  I  was  not 
willing  that  your  letter,  though  a  very  short  one, 
should  remain  unacknowledged.  I  would  have  writ- 
ten you  a  handsome  letter  if  I  could  have  done  it, 
but  here  again  I  have  no  time  to  mind  my  p's  and 
q's.     Yours,  afi*ectionately. 

VOL.    11.  3* 


68         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 


LETTER  CXXII. 

London,  29th  March,  1846. 
56  Charing  Cross. 
My  Dea^h  Sir: 

I  SUPPOSE  when  this  letter  reaches  you  it  will  find 
you  so  full  of  occupation  that  you  will  scarcely  have 
time  to  read  it.  However,  some  of  the  household 
may  find  leisure,  and,  at  any  rate,  it  will  be  welcome. 
I  have  to  ask  your  acceptance  of  an  engraving  of  a 
White  Horse  at  the  manger,  which  is  deemed  an 
admirable  effort  of  Landseer.  The  picture  is  slightly 
damaged,  but  I  hope  not  so  much  so  but  you  will 
deem  it  worthy  of  a  frame  to  adorn  the  cottage  at 
Elfin-glen.  It  was  a  present  to  me  which  I  could 
not  have  refused  if  I  had  wished  to  do  so,  Eisit  would 
have  been  inferred  that  I  refused  it  because  it  was 
soiled,  and  that  might  have  induced  the  donor  to  get 
a  perfect  copy  for  me,  which  I  should  not  have  been 
willing  he  should  have  done.  The  work  itself  has 
extraordinary  merit,  and  I  am  unable  to  see  how  the 
head  of  the  horse  could  be  improved. 

There  have,  not  been,  during  the  past  winter,  in 
the  neighborhood  of  London,  three  days  when  the 
plough  would  not  have  run  without  difficulty.  To- 
day I  went  into  Covent  Garden  market ;  and  to  say 
nothing  of  the  profusion  of  beautiful  flowers,  japoni- 
cas,  &c.,  &.C.,  I  saw  an  abundance  of  asparagus, 
cucumbers,  rhubarb,  sea-cale  and  new  potatoes,  and 
this  has  been  the  case  for  a  month  past.     These  are 


LETTKR    CXXII.  59 

all  forced,  excepting  the  potatoes,  and  there  is  some 
secret  way,  I  am  told,  of  bringing  them  forward, 
which  I  shall  try  to  get  hold  of,  if  I  can.  I  believe 
the  pretended  secret  in  this  case  is,  that  what  are 
sold  as  new  potatoes  are  half-grown  potatoes  of  the 
preceding  season,  planted  later  and  kept  in  the  ground 
secure  from  the  frost,  until  the  time  for  marketing 
them  arrives  in  the  spring.  The  sea-cale  is  a  most 
excellent  vegetable,  and  I  would  recommend  to  you 
to  raise  it.  This  and  the  rhubarb  are  both  bleached, 
and  are  good  at  any  time  of  the  year.  The  forced 
asparagus  iS  not  good.  Pease  and  string-beans  were 
in  the  market,  and  strawberries  in  plenty,  but  only  to 
look  at,  unless  your  pockets  are  lined  with  guineas. 
It  is  a  very  great  treat  to  visit  this  market,  which  I 
do  often  ;  the  fruit  and  vegetables  are  arranged  in 
beautiful  order,  but  the  passages  and  the  yards  on 
the  out  side  are  kept  in  an  extremely  slovenly  man- 
ner, which  I  greatly  wonder  at.  Indeed,  I  never 
yet  have  seen  but  one  market  which  fully  met  my 
ideas  of  the  neatness  proper  to  such  a  place,  and  that 
is  in  Philadelphia.  There  are  very  extensive  mar- 
kets in  various  parts  of  London  ;  the  Hungerford 
market,  for  vegetables,  fruits,  butter  and  cheese  :  the 
Newgate  and  Leadenhall  markets  for  butchers'  tneat, 
and  one  part  of  it  for  poultry  and  game  ;  the  Billings- 
gate market  for  fish ;  but  market  shops,  butchers' 
stalls,  and  fish  shops  are  all  over  the  town,  and  in 
many  of  the  gay  and  most  fashionable  streets.  There 
are  some  in  Bond  street,  so  that  along  side  of  shops 
filled  with  every  imaginable  article  of  taste  and  ele- 
gance and  fashion,  is  a  butchers'  stall,  adorned  Vith 


60  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

a  great  riumbef  of  carcasses  of  mutton  and  veal  sus- 
pended in  an  ornamental  style  in  front,  and  fish  stalls, 
presenting  a  splendid  variety  of  fish,  so  elegantly- 
arranged  that  it  is  almost  worth  coming  to  London 
even  to  see  them.     Yours  truly. 


LETTER  CXXIIL 

London,  2cl  April,  1846. 
My  Dear  M : 

I  HAVE  just  finished  all  of  my  report  that  I  can 
possibly  get  in  full  readiness  for  to-morrow  ;  I  have 
taken  my  walk  of  four  miles,  and  now  have  sat  down 
to  regale  my  mind  and  heart  by  a,  few  words  with 
you,  my  best  friend. 

First,  then,  of  the  weather.  We  have  had  one 
slight  sprinkling  of  snow  within  the  last  month,  and 
this  makes  only  the  second  snow  I  have  seen  this 
winter.  That  scarcely  remained  long  enough  for  the 
children  in  the  street  to  snowball  each  other  with, 
and  it  fell  upon  grass  six  and  eight  inches  in  height, 
upon  shrubs  coming  out  in  full  leaf,  and  upon  trees 
covered  with  blossoms  ;  somewhat  in  appearance  an 
unnatural  conjunction  ;  but  from  the  temperature  of 
the  weather  and  the  suddenness  with  which  it  took 
its  leave,  not  I  believe  injurious  to  the  trees,  as  it 
was  feared  it  might  be.  The  spring  has  fairly  set 
in.  We  have  had  three  weeks  of  uncomfortable  east 
wiadst  but  now  the  weather  is  quite  warm,     I  can- 


LETTER    CXXllI.  61 

not  say  I  have  been  well  all  winter  ;  I  put  on  my 
usual  thick  winter  clothes  in  the  autumn,  late,  how- 
ever ;  and  I  believe  the  very  severe  colds,  from  which 
I  have  suffered,  have  been  almost  wholly  attributa- 
ble to  being  heated  by  being  too  warmly  clad. 

As  I  shall  write  to  A ,  I  shall  refer  you  to  her 

for  an  account  of  two  visits  I  have  lately  made,  and 
proceed  to  tell  you  of  the  pleasure  I  have  had  in  see- 
ing Mr.  and  Mrs.  A ,  of  Boston,  and  in  rendering 

them  what  little  attentions  it  has  been  in  my  power 
to  offer.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  showing  them  several 
things  in  London.  I  obtained  for  them  invitations 
to  a  musical  party  at  my  friend  Lady  Simpkinson's, 
and  to  a  ball  at  Captain  Wormley's ;  and,  as  I  could 
not  go  with  them  myself,  I  gave  them,  with  leave 
first  obtained,  an  introduction  to  my  friends,  the 
Courages,  who  took  them  to  see  the  gallery  of  paint- 
ings at   Dulwich,  and  then  gave  them  an  elegant 

lunch.     I  showed  Mrs.  A the  principal  markets, 

one  of  the  handsomest  Club  Houses,  and  Howel  and 
James's  magnificent  shop ;  and  then  I  promised  to 
give  them  the  whole  of  last  Sunday.  They  met  me 
by  appointment  at  half-past  nine  at  the  Exchange, 
and  we  went  to  the  Rag  Fair,  which  is  held  princi- 
pally by  Jews,  with  whom,  of  course,  Sunday  is  a 
holiday.  Here  were  more  than  twenty  thousand 
Jews,  Irish,  and  vagabonds,  all  collected  in  a  few 
streets  and  open  buildings  for  the  sale  of  every  kind 
of  old  clothing.  We  could  only  get  through  them 
by  crowding  our  way ;  but  we  go  with  safety,  if  we 
proceed  quietly  and  take  care  of  our  pockets,  because 
the  police  are  always  at  hand  in  strong  force.     This 


62  EUROPKAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

took  US  until  about  eleven  o'clock,  when  we  went  to 
the  Foundling  Hospital  to  attend  service,  and  to  see 
the  four  hundred  neat  and  pretty  children,  boys  and 
girls,  who  are  there  lodged  and  educated.  This 
brought  us  to  half-past  one,  when  we  proceeded  to 
the  Chelsea  Hospital,  where  the  children  of  deceased 
soldiers  are  supported  and  educated ;  and  here  we 
looked  over  the  whole  establishment,  and  then  saw  a 
regiment  of  five  hundred  boys,  many  not  more  than 
six  years  old,  and  none  I  suppose  over  fourteen  years, 
drawn  up.  paraded,  and  exercised  with  all  the  precis- 
ion of  old  soldiers,  all  in  uniform,  and  having  two  mu- 
sical bands  of  their  own,  which  really  would  do  hon- 
or, by  their  playing,  to  any  regiment.  We  returned 
about  half-past  four  to  dine,  and  then  proceeded  at 
six  o'clock  to  Christ's  Hospital.  During  Lent  the 
suppers  of  the  pupils  of  this  Hospital,  which  is  in 
fact  a  school,  are  open  to  those  persons  who  obtain 
tickets   from    the    governor    or   city  officers.      Miss 

J went  with  us  ;  and  here,  after  some  religious 

exercises,  conducted  by  the  pupils,  and  some  delight- 
ful music,  we  saw  eight  hundred  of  these  boys  sit 
down  to  their  frugal  meal  of  bread  and  butter,  and 
small  beer.  It  was  a  highly  interesting  sight.  The 
Duke  of  Cambridge  and  several  of  the  nobility  were 

present.     Mrs.  A and  Miss  P had  therefore, 

a  favorable  opportunity  of  gratifying  their  curiosity. 
I  then  saw  them  home  to  their  lodgings,  and  went 
and  passed  an  hour  with  my  friends,  the  Pendarveses, 
who  had  been  absent  from  town  during  the  Easter 
holidays.  '  After  that  I  was  obliged  to  beat  a  retreat  ; 
and  when  I  called  last  evening  to  take  leave  of  Mr. 


IfETTER    CXXIV.  63 

and  Mrs.  A ,  at  ten  o'clock,  I  found  they  had  re- 
tired. They  leave  in  the  steamer  of  the  4th  inst. 
Yesterday  I  dined  with  a  large  party  of  gentlemen 
at  Dr.  William's  library,  and  was  compelled  to  make 
a  speech,  which  I  think  is  paying  very  dear  for  my 
dinner.  To-day  I  was  invited  to  dine  at  the  Crown 
and  Anchor  with  a  large  party  of  gentlemen  ;  but 
knowing  that  I  should  be  taxed  in  the  same  way,  1 
declined.  To-morrow  I  am  engaged  to  dine  with  a 
literary  party  at  Dr.  Carpenter's,  at  Stoke  Newington, 
four  miles  from  town.     Adieu. 


LETTER  CXXIV. 

London,  4th  May,  1846. 
My  Dkar  M : 

When  I  wrote  you  last  I  was  suffering  under  a 
severe  cold,  which  persons  here  choose  to  pronounce 
the  influenza.  My  cough  was  bad,  and  my  strength 
for  any  exertion  seemed  to  be  gone.  I  tried  hydro- 
pathy at  a  great  rate,  and  really  think  it  was  of  much 
service  to  me.  Medicine  I  always,  as  far  as  possible, 
eschew,  and  esca[ie  here  from  the  grasping  hands  of 
a  physician  ;  if  one  is  so  unfortunate  as  to  fall  into 
them,  it  is  oftentimes  as  if  a  man  asked  you  for  your 
coat,  and  you  were  compelled  to  give  him  your  cloak 
also,  and  very  likely  your  shirt  and  under-waistcoat 
into  the  bargain. 

The  medical  profession  here  is  divided  into  three 
classes  — that  of  surgeon,  physician,  and  apothecary  ; 


64  EUROPE.VN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

there  are,  likewise,  what  are  called  general  practition- 
ers, which  implies  surgeon,  physician,  and  apothe- 
cary, and-  is  what  we  call  a  doctor,  though  here  the 
term  doctor  is  applied  only  to  a  physician,  and  never 
to  a  surgeon ;  and  the  whole  class  are  generally  des- 
ignated as  medical  men  ;  so  that  instead  of  saying 
you  have  sent  for  a  doctor,  you  say  you  have  sent 
for  a  medical  man  ;  and  persons  are  never  spoken  of 
as  being  sick,  but  as  being  ill.  A  surgeon,  or  medi- 
cal man,  of  any  distinction,  must  keep  his  carriage 
and  pair,  and  go  always  attended  by  his  servant ;  an 
apothecary,  or  general  practitioner,  may  go  on  foot. 
A  surgeon,  or  physician,  gives  his  prescriptions,  to  be 
made  up  by  a  druggist ;  an  apothecary  furnishes 
ordinarily  his  own  medicine.  The  man  who  keeps 
a  shop  for  the  sale  of  medicine  is  not  called,  as  with 
us,  an  apothecary,  but  a  chemist,  or  druggist.  The 
physician,  or  surgeon,  always  expects  his  fee  of  a 
guinea  for  a  visit  before  he  leaves  the  house,  and  let 
his  visits  be  ever  so  often  ;  an  apothecary,  or  general 
practitioner,  charges  his  visits,  and  sends  you  a  bill. 
The  surgeon,  or  physician,  will  not  accept  a  pound, 
or  sovereign,  which  is  the  customary  gold  coin,  but 
he  must  have  the  guinea  —  that  is,  twenty-one  shil- 
lings. Though  guineas  have  ceased  to  be  a  lawful 
currency,  they  are  sure  to  look  for  the  odd  shilling. 
The  fee  for  a  surgeon,  or  physician,  in  consultation 
with  your  regular  attendant,  is  never  less  than  two 
guineas,  to  be  paid  at  the  time,  and  sometimes  much 
more.  It  becomes,  therefore,  a  very  expensive  mat- 
ter, to  require  medical  attendance  in  England.  The 
fee  for  the  visit  of  an  apothecary,  who  answers  in 


LETTER    CXXIV.  65 

every  respect  to  our  doctor,  and  many  of  whom  are 
persons  of  fine  education  and  great  experience,  is 
from  five  to  ten  shillings  a  visit. 

In  respect  to  my  own  personal  experience,  I  had, 
for  some  time,  the  attendance  of  a  general  practi- 
tioner, and  no  services  could  have  been  more  kindly 
and  skilfully  rendered,  and  no  demands  for  compen- 
sation more  reasonable ;  but  the  bill  of  a  medical 
man  in  London  is  ordinarily  regarded  with  a  good 
deal  of  solicitude. 

The  English  are  constantly  disposed  to  ridicule 
the  Americans,  for  the  use  of  the  term  sick,  insisting 
that  it  is  applicable  only  to  nausea  at  the  stomach. 
I  could  only  reply  to  them,  that,  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment, as  applied  in  the  cases  of  Lazarus,  and  the 
centurion's  servant,  and  others,  it  must  be  admitted 
to  be  good  old  Saxon. 

I  determined  to  accept  some  kind  invitations  which 
I  had  received  to  go  into  the  country,  and  have  come 
back  greatly  benefitted.  The  only  abatement  to  my 
enjoyment  was  the  delay  of  my  writing,  the  neces- 
sity for  the  completion  of  which  hangs  continually 
over  my  head,  like  the  sword  of  Damocles,  sus- 
pended by  a  single  hair.  However,  I  believe  what 
appeared  like  a  loss  of  time,  will  prove,  in  the  end,  a 
great  gain,  for  I  have  returned  from  three  visits, 
among  some  of  the  most  agreeable,  the  most  kind, 
the  most  polished  people  in  the  world,  refreshed  both 
in  soul  and  body,  and  with  only  one  thing  to  regret, 
that  you  at  home  could  not  all  of  you  share  in  my 
enjoyment. 

As  I  shall  have  only  time  to  write  one  letter,  be- 


66  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

fore  this  must  proceed  upon  its  destination,  I  may  as 
well  give  you  an  account  of  my  visits.  I  had  been 
to  Sir  John  Easthope's  to  pass  the  night,  before  1 
last  wrote  you,  and  came  back  to  town,  to  get  my 
letters  and  write  to  you,  under  a  promise,  however, 
that  I  would  return  and  spend  a  longer  time.  I 
accordingly  went  back  on  Saturday,  and  remained 
until  Monday.  There  were  but  few  persons  staying 
in  the  house,  but  my  visit  was  delightful.  I  remained 
in  London  until  Thursday  morning,  when  I  left  for 
Castle  Hill,  Devonshire,  the  elegant  residence  of  Earl 
Fortescue,  formerly  viceroy  of  Ireland.  I  had  one 
hundred  and  eighty-four  miles  to  go  by  railroad,  and 
thirty  by  coach,  and  reached  there  at  seven,  in  sea- 
son for  dinner  at  eight.  I  found  many  gentlemen 
and  ladies  staying  there,  and  a  more  elegant  and 
agreeable  visit  it  was  impossible  I  should  have  made. 
While  there,  I  received  a  letter  of  invitation  from 
Sir  Robert  Newman,  at  Mamhead,  to  make  him  a 
visit,  and  was  told  that  his  place,  in  an  agricultural 
view,  was  as  well  worth  seeing  as  any  place  in 
England,  —  so  I  found  it.  I  left  Castle  Hill  —  after 
promises  to  visit  Lord  and  Lady  Fortescue,  in  Lon- 
don, and,  if  possible,  to  come  to  Castle  Hill  again, 
when  I  should  return  to  England  from  the  Continent 
—  in  the  coach,  thirty  miles  to  the  railroad,  and 
thence  about  fifteen  miles  farther  to  Exeter,  and  here 
I  found  Sir  Robert's  carriage  and  pair  waiting  to 
take  me  to  Mamhead,  ten  miles,  through  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  countries,  in  aspect,  variety,  richness, 
and  cultivation,  that  can  be  imagined,  and  was  set 
down  certainly  at  the  handsomest  situation,  the  most 


LETTER    CXXIV.  67 

elegant  grounds,  and  the  best  house,  that  I  have  seen. 
I  send  with  this  two  views  of  the  house,  for  Mr. 

D ,  which  I  hope  he  will  receive  with  my  regards, 

and  only  with  the  regret  that  he  cannot  see  the  inside 
of  this  princely  mansion,  the  erection  of  which,  I  am 
told,  with  the  outbuildings,  conservatories,  and  sta- 
bles, cost  only  one  million  of  dollars.  I  have  always 
thought  Mr.  Clark's  situation,  at  Northampton,  one 
of  the  handsomest  I  have  ever  seen,  but  this  very 
much  surpasses  it,  presenting  greater  variety  of 
scenery,  and  especially  opening  upon  the  wide 
ocean,  upon  which  every  vessel  bound  to  London 
up  the  Channel  must  pass.  When  I  entered  the 
drawing-room,  I  was  left  alone  for  a  few  moments, 
and  was  soon  surprised  by  the  sweetest  music  that 
could  possibly  fall  upon  the  ear,  and  the  performance 
of  several  familiar  tunes.  I  thought  at  first  it  was 
some  musical  box,  but  on  looking  round  I  found  the 
charming  serenader  was  a  beautiful  canary  bird,  who, 
by  great  art  and  skill,  had  been  taught  to  execute,  in 
this  most  delicate  and  melodious  style,  several  pieces 
of  music. 

The  family  at  home  consisted  of  Sir  Robert  and 
brother,  a  most  gentlemanly,  intelligent  man,  and 
three  young  ladies,  all  most  courteous  and  charming 
in  their  manners.  While  here,  Sir  Robert  took  me 
over  the  country,  and  one  day  to  Torquay,  about 
eighteen  miles,  to  see  my  friends  the  Hathertons,  and 
to  Tor-Abbey.  On  Thursday,  he  sent  me  to  Exeter 
by  his  carriage,  and,  taking  the  Great  Western  Rail 
at  twelve  o'clock,  I  reached  home,  two  hundred 
miles,  at  ten.     Adieu. 


EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    xMANNERS. 


LETTER  CXXV. 

London,  2d  June,  1846. 
56  Charing  Cross. 
My  Dbae  M : 

The  enclosed  have  been  sent  me  yesterday  by  an 
Irish  friend.  She  is  an  excellent  person,  and  full  of 
good  deeds,  having  almost  renovated  a  colony  of  Irish 
poor,  fed,  clothed,  and  instructed  them,  and  with  her 
brother,  built  up  a  village  of  clean,  sober,  industrious 
people.  She  has  a  sister,  who,  in  respect  to  painting 
and  sculpture,  is  destined  to  be  eminently  distin- 
guished. I  have  seen  some  of  her  sculpture  —  a 
group  of  figures  at  an  Irish  wake,  in  marble  —  which 
is  admirable,  and  shows  the  highest  order  of  talent. 
There  was  no  end  to  the  kindness  which  this  family 
were  disposed  to  show  me  in  Ireland. 

The  stockings  were  not  wove,  but  knit  lay  hand, 
and  you'll  know  what  to  do  with  them.  The  pulse- 
warmers,  as  you  know  I  never  wear  any  such  thing, 
please  give  to  any  person,  whose  circulations  are  lan- 
guid, if  you  have  any  such  in  the  United  States.  I 
shall  certainly  remember  my  friend  without  them. 


LETTER  CXXVI. 

London,  3d  June,  1846. 
Mt  Dear  Friend: 

I  HAVE  only  a  moment  to  say  a  kind  word  to  you, 
and  to  send  you  an  autograph  of  Rammohun  Roy 


LETTER    CXXVI.  69 

and  Anna  Letitia  Barbauld,  which  I  know  yoirll 
value.  I  hope  you  got  the  book  and  appreciate  it 
properly.  I  have  had  not  a  few  expressions  of  com- 
passion and  reproach  from  various  friends  for  my 
"gooseisra,"  as  they  say,  in  sending  it;  but  I  am 
quite  content  and  more  happy  than  I  should  be  to 
have  kept  it,  if  you  value  it  as  I  think  you  will. 
Had  I  seen  before  last  week  the  lovely  creature  from 
whom  Dean  Swift's  autograph  came,  who  was  not 
at  home  when  I  was  at  her  father's  place  in  Ireland, 
I  should  have  had  a  considerably  increased  reluctance 
at  parting  with  any  thing  which  had  passed  through 
her  hands.  Her  character,  I  am  assured,  is  even  more 
lovely  than  her  person,  and  I  am  delighted  with  the 
expectation  of  seeing  her  again.  The  good  creature, 
through,  I  believe,  an  almost  diseased  veneration  and 
conscientiousness  and  benevolence,  has  lately  become 
a  convert  to  Romanism.  In  her  intercourse  with  the 
poor  in  Ireland,  where  she  has  labored  most  devoutly, 
she  has  been  brought  much  into  contact  with  the 
priests,  who  are  active  in  doing  good  to  the  distressed, 
and  no  one  will  suspect  them  of  any  indisposition  to 
effect  so  important  a  conversion. 

I  promise  myself  the  pleasure  of  sending  you, 
shortly,  Mrs.  Somerville's  autograph,  Wordsworth's, 
Dr.  Carpenter's,  and  some  others,  if  I  can  possibly 
keep  other  people's  hands  off;  but  three  ladies,  great 
mousers,  within  the  last  week,  two  have  written  and 
one  entreated,  that  I  would  give  them  some  of  my 
treasures  in  this  way.  My  only  safety,  therefore, 
seems  to  be,  as  in  this  case,  by  sending  them  to  you 
to  put  it  out  of  my  power. 


70         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

Don't  forget  Washington's  and  Franklin's.  You 
must  get  them  even  if  you  purchase  them  at  the 
sacrifice  of  some  I  have  sent  to  you.  I  want  them 
for  a  friend  here  whom  I  am  most  anxious  to  serve, 
and  to  whom  I  would  almost  give  a  finger  if  she  asked 
it — a  hand  you  know  I  have  not  to  give.     Adieu. 


LETTER  CXXVII. 

London,' June  3,  1846. 
My  Dear  M : 

The  last  boat  brought  me  not  a  single  letter,  paper, 
or  message  of  any  kind.  This  is  a  disappointment 
which  I  have  not  before  experienced.  I  console  my- 
self with  thinking  that  it  must  be  some  mistake  in 
regard  to  sending  the  letters,  and  not  that  any  or  all 
of  you  are  ill ;  so  I  shall  wait  with  as  much  patience 
as  I  can  until  the  next  arrival. 

My  days  are  spent  entirely  in  my  room ;  I  rarely 
go  out  before  five  o'clock,  unless  in  some  extraor- 
dinary case,  and  my  evenings  I  spend  either  in  walk- 
ing or  visiting.  I  find  I  get  a  pain  in  my  breast 
unless  I  get  six  to  eight  miles  walk  in  the  course  of 
the  day,  and  therefore  I  frequently  go  down  into  the 
town  four  miles,  for  the  sake  of  the  walk,  or  as  Abra- 
ham Search  says,  "  to  see  what  o'clock  it  is,"  and  it 
is  impossible  to  go  into  the  town  without  passing 
innumerable  objects  to  interest  you.  My  amaze- 
ment at  London  constantly  increases ;  and  the  old 
Londoners  themselves  speak  of  the    growth    of  the 


LETTER    CXXVII.  71 

city  and  the  rapid  accumulation  of  the  people  with 
as  much  surprise  as  strangers  are  affected  with,  when 
they  first  visit  it.  This  week  is  Greenwich  Fair, 
which  is  held  three  times  a  year,  and  Whitsuntide, 
Avhich  occurs  at  this  time,  is  a  continual  holiday 
through  the  week,  for  a  great  portion  of  the  people. 
Whit-Monday  is  a  great  festival,  and  the  population 
abandon  themselves  to  enjoyment  and  recreation, 
especially  the  lower  orders.  The  steamboats,  the 
omnibusses,  the  railroads,  are  all  full,  and  the  roads 
are  crowded  with  people  on  foot,  and  the  tea-gardens 
and  beer-shops,  and  parks  and  public  places,  actually 
swarm  with  men,  women,  and  children.  I  was  told 
last  evening  that  from  one  landing,  and  that  not  the 
principal  one,  for  there  are  a  great  many  on  the 
Thames  at  which  the  boats  stop,  one  hundred  thou- 
sand persons  were  known  to  have  embarked  in  the 
course  of  the  day.  The  trains  between  London  and 
Greenwich,  four  miles,  ran  every  five  minutes  from 
early  morning  until  twelve  o'clock  at  night,  and 
never  carried  less  than  from  three  hundred  to  five 
hundred  passengers  at  a  time.  The  rush  to  get  into 
the  station  house  was  absolutely  frightful  outside  the 
door,  and  a  strong  body  of  police  was  everywhere 
required  to  keep  the  people  in  any  kind  of  order. 

Mr.  E.  Baylies  and  his  daughter,  from  Boston,  are 
now  here,  on  their  return  from  the  Continent,  and  I 
went  with  them  last  evening  to  show  them  the 
bridges  on  the  river,  which  are  among  the  most 
beautiful  objects  in  London,  and  Greenwich  Fair. 
We  went  about  half-past  five  o'clock,  and  returned 
at  eight,  and  they  seemed  much  gratified  with  their 


72  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

excursion,  and  confessed  that  in  all  their  journeys 
and  sights  upon  the  Continent,  they  had  seen  no 
more  curious  exhibition. 

The  weather  here  for  the  last  month  has  been  per- 
fect, and  the  country  is  delightful,  but  I  get  little 
chance  of  seeing  it.  I  have  engaged  to  go  into  the 
country  as  soon  as  I  can  find  leisure  to  do  it,  but 
when  that  will  be  I  cannot  say.  I  have  engaged, 
likewise,  to  go  down  into  Surrey  to  pass  Sunday  at 
Battle,  but  it  cannot  be  done  at  present.  The  mo- 
ment I  finish  my  eighth  number  I  shall  fully  acquaint 
you  with  my  plans,  which,  I  hope,  you  will  approve. 
Lady  Byron  wishes  me  to  go  down  to  Esther  to  make 
a  visit,  but  that  I  regret  to  have  been  compelled  to 
decline,  and  1  have  declined  three  invitations  to  dine 
last  week,  so  that  you  see  I  am  husbanding  my  time, 
though  the  dinner  hour  is  so  late  that  it  gives  one 
an  opportunity  of  working  all  the  day,  and  that  is  as 
much  as  I  can  do.  To-day  I  am  to  dine  at  Lord 
Lovelace's  with  a  party,  at  eight  o'clock. 

Saturday  morning  I  went  to  Brixton,  to  a  break- 
fast, at  two  o'clock,  to  attend  the  wedding  of  Mr. 

L ,  and  Miss  P .     Affairs   were    very  well 

managed,  and  every  augury  is  auspicious. 

I  send  a  pair  of  slippers  knit  for  me  by  the  poor 
girl  of  whom  I  gave  you  an  account.  Most  of  the 
work  was  done  by  her  after  she  was  scarcely  able  to 
sit  up,  I  believe  out  of  pure  gratitude  and  aflection. 
Of  course  I  did  not  allow  her  to  be  at  any  expense. 
She  was  a  humble,  but  lovely,  pure-minded,  heavenly 
creature,  and  a  beautiful  example  of  entire  resigna- 
tion, and  the  power  of  religion   to  fortify  and   exalt 


LETTER    CXXVII.  73 

the  mind  under  the  severest  trials.  They  are  not 
what  I  should  wear  myself,  but  if  they  would  suit 
any  friend  of  ours,  pray  give  them  as  you  please. 

An  English  Fair  is  a  curious  spectacle.  These 
fairs  were  first  instituted  as  great  markets  for  goods 
and  wares,  which  were  brought  in  large  quantities 
for  sale  at  such  marts.  They  are  still  held  for  these 
objects  on  the  Continent.  But  they  have  ceased  to 
be  devoted  to  these  purposes  in  England,  and  little 
else  is  for  sale  than  toys,  gingerbread,  eatables  and 
drinkables.  The  crowd  is  commonly  immense;  the 
visitors  in  general  of  the  lowest  order ;  the  amuse- 
ments vulgar  enough, —  swings,  roundabouts,  wooden 
horses,  dancing,  running  and  tumbling  down  hill, 
kissing  in  the  ring,  as  it  is  termed,  which,  as  I  took 
no  part  in  it,  I  shall  not  attempt  to  describe,  but 
which  seemed  quite  a  favorite  amusement  without 
much  discrimination ;  and  in  the  evening  suppers 
and  dances,  when  the  rowdies  and  swell  mob  collect 
from  all  quarters  to  make  up  the  entertainments. 
Add  to  all  these  the  strolling  theatres,  of  which  there 
are  commonly  half  a  dozen  in  full  blast ;  boxing 
matches,  harlequins,  <:hattering  monkeys,  dancing 
bears,  and  a  compound  and  combination  of  sounds, 
noises,  exhibitions,  plays,  and  entertainments,  of  a 
variety  which  it  would  be  wholly  impossible  to  de- 
scribe. 

You  will  see  in  the  parcel  a  scraper,  for  E 

D ,  called  the  Fun  of  the  Fair.     These  are  for 

sale  by  thousands  at  every  fair,  and  this  I  bought  at 
Greenwich  for  a  penny.  The  young  men  and  wo- 
men buy  them  to  scrape  each  other's  backs,  and  the 

VOL.    IL  4 


74         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

backs  of  other  people  as  they  go  through  the  crowd. 
The  pleasure  seems  to  consist  in  the  noise  they  make, 

and  the  surprise  they  create.     Mr.  B and  myself 

got  scraped  a  dozen  times  the  other  day  by  the  girls 
in  the  crowd  as  we  passed  along,  (who.  fled  as  soon 

as  they  had  done  it,)  and  Miss  B by  the  young 

men.  You  are  obliged  to  take  it  with  good  humor, 
but  I  cannot  say  that  I  think  it  a  very  refined  amuse- 
ment. However,  you  hardly  meet  a  young  man  or 
woman  without  one ;  and  when  I  was  buying  this 

the  other  day  for  E ,  a  couple  of  girls  came  up, 

and  giving  me  a  scrape,  wanted  to  know  if  I  was 
not  ashamed  to  be  getting  one,  thinking,  as  well 
they  might,  that  I  was  a  little  too  gray  and  too 
bald  to  be  amusing  myself  in  that  way ;  but  if  the 
jades  had  not  fled  in  no  time,  I  certainly  would  have 
scraped  them  in  return.     Yours  truly. 


LETTER  CXXVIII. 

London,  8th  June,  1846. 
My  Dear  Sir: 

The  heat  here  has  been  for  a  fortnight  intense, 
quite  unusual,  but  presenting  the  promise  of  the  best 
crops  which  have  been  gathered  for  years  ;  for  which, 
I  am  sorry  to  say,  few  farmers  feel  grateful,  because 
it  gives  them  more  labor  and.  less  prices.  So  it  is 
that  man  is  never  satisfied.  The  great  measures  of 
commercial  reform  are  now  nearly  through  Parlia- 
ment.    The  Premier  is  getting   the  ship  into  port 


LETTER    CXXVIII.  75 

with  all  her  sails  set  and  her  flags  flying  ;  but  never, 
I  believe,  had  a  master  a  more  perilous  and  vexatious 
navigation,  nor  a  more  mutinous  crew.  I  was  in 
Parliament  on  Friday  night  last,  the  only  time  to 
attend  I  have  found  this  session,  and  heard  three 
hours'  warm  debate  in  the  House  of  Lords,  and  then 
got  into  the  Commons  five  minutes  before  Sir  R. 
Peel  began  the  most  magnificent  speech,  with 
scarcely  an  exception,  I  ever  heard.  He  spoke  from 
a  quarter  to  eleven  to  one  o'clock,  and  I  had  then  to 
walk  home  five  miles,  but  was  amply  paid  for  the 
fatigue.  He  was  on  the  Coercion  bill  for  Ireland, 
and  he  took  care  to  defend  himself  against  the  at- 
tacks of  Lord  George  Bentinck,  who  has  been  most 
severe  and  bitter  towards  him.  Sir  Robert  Peel's 
manner  was  dignified  and  proper,  in  the  highest  de- 
gree unimpassioned,  and  triumphant ;  and  he  sat 
down  amidst  a  whirlwind  of  applause.  It  was  really 
a  sublime  occasion,  and  he  was  thought  to  have  ex- 
celled himself.  He  expects,  as  is  generally  under- 
stood, to  be  beaten  on  this  bill,  and  then  goes  out  of 
course.  Who  can  manage  the  government  after  him 
in  the  present  condition  of  parties,  no  one  can  fore- 
tell. Lord  John  Russell  will  be  ofiered  the  govern- 
ment, but  it  is  supposed  that  he  cannot  get  a  support 
in  the  House.  If  the  tory  party  come  in,  the  min- 
istry could  not  get  on  a  month.  It  is  said  there  will 
be  a  dissolution  of  Parliament  and  a  new  election, 
which  will  be  fiercely  contested.  Certainly  Eng- 
land, at  no  period  of  her  history,  was  ever  before  in 
a  brighter  sunshine  of  prosperity,  and  the  movements 
against  the  Premier  seem  edtogether  suicidal      The 


76  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

commercial  revolution  which  has  begun  will  go  on. 
Public  sentiment  has  decreed  it,  and  has  gathered 
increased  momentum  and  force  as  it  has  moved  on- 
ward ;  and  no  power  on  earth  at  present,  or  until  ex- 
perience may  have  shown  them  their  mistake,  can 
put  it  back.  It  is  with  the  people  a  question  of  food, 
and  therefore  all  reasoning  with  them  is  at  an  end. 

But  what  are  we  to  say  of  American  politics  ?  We 
are  waiting  with  extreme  solicitude  to  know  whether 
the  Americans  are  to  dictate  terms  of  submission 
under  the  walls  of  Mexico,  or  whether  the  aflfair  at 
Rio  Grande  is  to  decide  every  thing.  War  is  a 
dreadful  curse  in  every  aspect  and  in  all  its  relations 
and  results ;  but  if  these  early  and  signal  defeats  de- 
termine the  contest,  we  must  be  thankful  to  Heaven 
who  brings  good  out  of  evil.  It  must  be  a  dreadful 
measure,  which  requires  a  New  England  militiaman, 
who  perhaps  has  never  dreamed  of  the  realities  of 
war,  to  leave  his  quiet  home  and  his  peaceful  and 
industrial  occupations  to  pitch  his  tent  under  the 
burning  suns  and  amidst  the  swamps  and  chapparals 
of  Texas  —  and  for  what?  to  extend  slavery. 

Pray  send  some  of  Dr.  Howe's  last  reports ;  they 
are  constantly  asked  for ;  and  one  or  two  of  Mr. 
Mann's,  of  which  I  have  heard  most  emphatical  ap- 
probation from  Mr.  Combe.  Yours  truly. 

P.  S.  Mr.  McLane's  health  is  restored,  to  the  joy 
of  all  his  friends.  No  man  ctsuld  be  more  esteemed, 
or  fill  the  post  more  honorably  to  himself,  and  be 
more  respected  by  the  English. 


LETTER   CXXIX.  77 


LETTER  CXXIX. 

London,  20th  June,  1846. 
Mt  Deab  M : 

I  HAVE  nothing  particular  to  communicate,  but 
suppose  I  give  you  my  own  personal  experience  of 
yesterday,  Sunday,  for  example.  Awoke  at  half- 
past  six  —  a  fine  morning ;  the  sky  clear ;  the  air 
soft ;  the  birds  in  crowds  whistling  under  my  win- 
dow among  the  trees,  which  make  almost  a  forest 
behind  the  house,  and  the  sun  pouring  his  full  splen- 
dor into  the  room,  and  almost  reproaching  me  for 
allowing  him  to  begin  the  day  before  me  — but,  alas  ! 
at  this  season  there  is  no  night;  and  if  one  does  not 
retire  until  one  o'clock,  how  is  he  to  rise  at  four  ? 
Thanked  God  for  the  quiet  repose  of  the  night,  and 
implored  all  of  good  that  Heaven  can  grant  for  my 
dear  wife  and  children,  and  the  absent  friends  beyond 
the  seas,  the  delightful  and  precious  images  of  whom 
are  the  first  objects  that  greet  my  opening  mind  in 
the  morning,  and  the  last  that  fade  upon  my  closing 
vision  at  night.     God  bless  and  keep  you  all. 

Rose  at  seven ;  made  my  toilet ;  sat  down  to  an- 
swer two  or  three  letters  received  the  night  previous, 
and  to  write  two  or  three  pages  of  my  report,  which 
would  have  been  finished  but  for  unexpected  inter- 
ruptions the  night  before.  Breakfast  at  nine  on  my 
plain  boiled  rice  and  tea ;  dressed  for  church,  and 
walked  three  miles  to  Finsbury  Place.     The  whole 


78         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

town  alive ;  church-goers  in  all  directions ;  loads  of 
people  crowded  into  vans,  coaches,  carts,  &c.,  &,c., 
for  recreation  in  the  country.  The  vans  are  enor- 
mous vehicles,  filled  with  men,  and  women  and  chil- 
dren, bent  on  cheap  excursions ;  (the  driver  of  a  van 
was  fined  the  other  day  for  carrying  thirty-five  grown 
people  and  seven  children,  with  only  two  horses,  to 
Hampton  Court  and  back,  from  eight  to  ten  miles.) 
Varied  my  usual  walk  a  mile  through  some  of  the 
poorest  parts  of  the  city,  to  quicken  my  own  grati- 
tude that  I  was  raised  above  the  squalid  destitution 
and  want  and  wretchedness  in  which  so  many  thou- 
sands are  involved,  and  almost  without  hope  or 
remedy. 

Service  at  eleven  ;  the  singing  celestial ;  one  hymn 
by  liord  Morpeth  —  111,  I  think  in  the  book  I  sent 
you,  and  several  others  as  beautiful,  executed  in  a 
perfect  manner  ;  i\\e  prayer,  so  called,'  an  elegant  and 
eloquent  oration  on  the  attributes  of  God,  the  mag- 
nificence of  his  providence,  the  fulness  of  his  benefi- 
cence, the  progress  of  human  improvement,  and  the 
sublime  destiny  of  man  ;  a  powerful  discourse  on  the 
different  phases  which  the  gospel  assumes,  under  the 
different  external  influences  which  operate  upon  it, 
and  the  manner  in  which  what  is  called  Christianity 
is  afiected  by  civilization,  science,  philosophy,  peace 
and  war,  political  institutions  and  governments  ;  how 
far  it  operates  upon  and  is  operated  upon  by  the  con- 
dition of  society,  and  the  immense  steps  taken  to 
advance  the  great  principles  of  justice  and  humanity 
by  the  recent  measures  of  the  government,  consum- 
mated within  the  last  two  days,  in  introducing  a  sys- 


LETTER    CXXIX.  79 

tern  of  free  commercial  intercourse  with  the  world. 
The  sermon  was  grand,  and  made  one's  heart  expand 
and  bound  with  emotion. 

Walked  half  a  mile  to  put  a  letter  into  the  great 
post-office  with  an  agreeable  lady,  who  sits  in  the 
next  pew  to  me,  and  whose  sentiments  upon  the  dis- 
course, in  their  powerful  sympathy,  seemed  to  render 
mine  the  more  intense. 

At  the  post-office,  by  accident,  met  my  good  friend, 

J L ,  who  leaves  with  his  new  and  excellent 

wife  to-morrow  for  a  new  home  in  the  West.  He 
walked  with  me  to  Islington,  three  miles,  and  I  took 
care  to  give  him  such  homely  advice  as  my  own  ex- 
perience warranted.  He  calls  himself  orthodox,  but 
in  my  opinion,  orthodoxy  or  heresy  in  religion  are 
only  things  for  metaphysical  theologians  to  quarrel 
about,  and  not,  to  any  sensible  man,  worth  the  snap 
of  your  finger.  Compared  with  religion,  they  are 
like  the  fogs  which  thicken  round  the  base  of  a  lofty 
mountain,  immersed  in  which,  besides  the  discom- 
forts of  the  cold,  you  see  nothing  about  you,  while 
above  all  this  dark  and  disagreeable  vapor  is  the 
summit,  bright  and  radiant  with  the  pure  light  of 
Heaven,  opening  a  boundless  and  magnificent  pros- 
pect, widening  to  the  utmost  extent  of  the  continually 
receding  horizon,  and  stretching  upwards  into  the 
profound  and  unfathomable  abyss,  and  thus  elevating 
the  soul,  and  filling  it  with  unutterable  adoration,  and 
with  a  sentiment  of  its  own  dignity  and  immortality. 

Went  to  diue  with  my  good  friend,  Mr.  Giblett,  at 
Barnsburry  Villas,  his  wife,  a  pleasing  and  worthy 
lady,  and  six  beautiful  children,  ruddy  and  happy  — 


80  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

all  of  whom  came  and  kissed  me,  and  three  of  them 
continued  to  cling  upon  my  neck  and  gather  into 
my  arms  —  a  picture  of  domestic  love  and  youthful 
promise  and  hope  which  is  perfectly  delicious.  Mr. 
Giblett  paints  well ;  his  room  is  crowded  with  the 
productions  of  his  pencil ;  he  gave  me  the  head  of  a 
dog,  just  finished,  which,  when  it  comes  home,  I  de- 
sign for  S ,  and  is  completing  a  picture  of  two 

Scotch  lasses,  gleaners,  for  me,  which  I  think  must 

go  to  C ,  at  Providence,  unless  you  choose  to 

stop  it  on  its  way. 

Dined  at  half-past  two  —  Mr.  G.  much  depressed  — 
hypoed  —  gave  him  a  good  sound  scolding  for  not 
appreciating  his  blessings,  and  told  him  I  would  not 
listen  to  his  complaints ;  but,  if  he  must  complain, 
let  him  go  with  me,  where  I  went  in  the  morning, 
and  there  he  would  find  an  effectual  cure. 

At  four  o'clock,  started  with  him,  in  a  gig,  for  a 
drive  of  seven  miles,  to  Edmonton,  famous  in  John 
Gilpin's  excursion,  and  Southgate,  a  part  of  the 
country  I  had  not  visited ;  and  it  seems  to  me  as 
delightful  as  fine  roads,  cultivated  fields,  splendid 
private  dwellings,  magnificent  parks,  umbrageous 
forests,  hill  and  dale,  a  full  and  clear  river  winding 
through  the  whole,  the  roads  bounded  for  the  whole 
distance  with  green  and  compact  hedges,  the  avenues 
to  the  houses  sparkling  with  flowers  arid  adorned 
with  shrubbery,  the  fields  covered  with  ricks  of  the 
new-mown  hay,  and  the  air  fragrant  with  delicious 
perfume,  the  meadows  dotted  all  over  with  herds  of 
cattle  and  sheep,  and  here  and  there  a  proud  and 
beautiful  swan  floating  in  his  simple  majesty  upon  a 


LETTER    CXXIX.  81 

bend  of  the  river,  and  a  thousand  other  objects  of 
interest,  could  make  it. 

Went  to  a  farm-house  of  one  of  Mr.  G.'s  friends  ; 
saw  the  cows,  the  sheep,  the  immense  stacks  of  hay 
in  the  yard,  some  of  them  containing,  as  the  owner 
told  us,  more  than  fifty  tons ;  saw  the  dairy  ;  saw 
the  plump  and  rosy  children  ;  and  with  these  very 
kind  people  were  welcomed  to  a  delicious  cup  of  tea, 
with  the  heartiness  of  friends  of  half  a  century's 
acquaintance. 

Took  our  leave  at  seven  ;  returned  by  a  different 
but  equally  pleasant  route ;  thousands  of  people  on 
the  roads ;  passed  Primrose  Hill,  where  the  people 
stood  in  crowds,  like  a  forest  of  trees;  drove  through 
Regent's  Park ;  thousands  and  tens  and  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  people  walking,  riding,  sauntering, 
driving  ;  ladies  and  gentlemen  on  horseback  ;  splen- 
did chariots,  with  their  gorgeous  freights,  passing  by 
you  in  a  continuous  stream;  phaetons,  cabs,  brough- 
ams, britskas,  wagons,  carts,  donkies,  goat  carriages, 
children's  carts,  —  all  making  up  the  indescribable 
whirl,  the  rushing  torrent,  the  foaming  river  of  Lon- 
don life. 

Called  in  St.  James's  Street  to  take  leave  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Wetmore,  and  Miss  Rogers,  who  leave  to- 
day.    Sent  a  present  to  you,  by  Miss  R ,  which 

she  must  give  you  in  person  —  though  I  should 
greatly  prefer  that  you  should  have  it  at  first  hands, 
than  to  send  it  on  the  lips  of  a  cherub. 

Went  to  Highbury  at  ten  ;  the  tide  of  people  still 
full  and  moving  onwards  in  every  street ;  a  dish  of 

'*'    VOL.    II.  4* 


82  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

politics,  well  seasoned  by  the  cooks  there,  until 
eleven  ;  walked  home  ;  in  bed  soon  after  twelve. 

Now  is  not  this  a  good  day's  work  for  a  Sunday  ? 
but  pray  don't  think  I  spend  every  Sunday  after  this 
manner,  —  yet,  in  truth,  if  one  chose  to  leave  his 
room,  and  give  himself  up  to  the  excitements  of 
London,  this  would  be  a  very  limited  history  of  his 
experience. 

Now  I  well  let  you  have  breath.     I  am  happy  to 

receive  J 's  letter.     The  delightful  news  of  peace 

rejoices  me  beyond  expression. 

It  is  now  half-past  one  o'clock.  I  don't  dare  sit 
up  any  longer.  1  am  going  to-morrow  to  Wimpole, 
(Lord  Hardwicke's,)  to  spend  two  or  three  days. 
Adieu. 


LETTER  CXXX. 


TO    MISS    E.    S.    Q. 


„     ^  „  Wimpole,  Cambridgeshire,  1st  July,  1846. 

Mt  Dear  Friend :  ^  j> 

You  certainly  grow  quite  fashionable,  to  be  writing 
to  me  on  note  paper,  under  a  small  envelope, — and 
this,  too,  three  thousand  miles  across  the  water. 
However,  a  little  is  better  than  nothing  ;  but  I  am 
disposed  to  say  to  you,  as  to  a  delightful  friend  here, 
who  was  in  the  habit,  not  only  of  writing  the  most 
agreeable  epistles  (if  so  they  could  be  called)  upon  note 
paper,  but  of  crossing  them  greatly  to  the  expense  and 


LETTER    CXXX.  83 

discomfort  of  my  eyes — that  if  she  sent  me  another  in 
that  style,  I  would  send  her  a  ream  of  letter  paper, 
by  post,  unpaid.  Henceforth,  I  will  be  no  economist 
of  paper,  thanking  Heaven  daily  for  this  mystic 
mode  of  communication  and  exchange  of  sympathies 
with  friends  —  whose  love  is  indeed  almost  all  I  care 
for  —  and  happy  that,  if  I  cannot  myself  place  upon 
it  that  which  is  worthy  of  being  thus  fixed,  others 
can ;  and  that  I  am  constantly  getting  from  your 
own  kind  self  and  other  dear  friends  that,  which, 
come  on  one  paper  or  another,  cross-lined  or  inter- 
lined —  since  the  lines  are  radiant  with  good  will  and 
aflfection,  —  which  is  invaluable  to  me. 

So  this  will  find  you  under  the  spreading  elms, 
and  in  the  venerable  old  mansion  at  Q,uincy.  I 
remember  all  about  it :  the  avenue,  with  its  pretty 
maple  hedge  ;  the  spreading  trees,  whose  boughs 
now,  I  dare  say,  meet  and  intertwine  ;  the  portico, 
with  its  charming  woodbines  ;  the  evergreens,  which 
skirted  the  winding  path  by  the  barred  gate  ;  the 
tea-table,  with  its  little  "  brown  jug  that  flowed 
with "  mild  Souchong  ;  and  the  precious  and  kind 
hearts  and  bright  eyes  which  used  to  gather  round, 
continually  exploding  in  gentle  corruscations,  like 
China  crackers,  with  "  thoughts  that  breathe  and 
words  that  burn ;"  I  remember  the  delightful  walks 
to  the  bay,  and  the  whispering  ripple  of  the  tide 
upon  the  shore ;  I  remember  the  cows,  and  the  car- 
rots, and  the  cream  ;  I  remember  the  'squire,  so  grave 
and  gay ;  I  remember,  too,  the  'squire's  lady,  so 
courteous,  so  gracious,  so  frank,  so  kind,  so  agreea- 
ble, that  we  all  loved  her  ;  I  remember,  also,  the 


)M  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

appearance  of  the  new  stars  in  this  domestic  firma- 
ment, now,  indeed,  grown  into  planets,  moving  in 
their  own  bright  orbits,  with  their  own  satellites 
floating  around  their  brilliant  centres.  All  these  are 
precious  reminiscences,  delightful  to  the  imagination, 
stirring  to  the  affections,  and  awaking  and  gilding 
the  bright  hopes  of  the  future ;  even  my  old  horse,  a 
faithful  old  friend  of  unimpeached  and  unimpeach- 
able worth,  knew  the  place  as  well  as  his  master.  I 
remember  all  about  it,  and  how  much  I  enjoyed  it, 
and  how  much  I  loved  you  all, — and  my  heart  is 
aching  once  more  to  meet  you  all.  But  I  must  feast 
upon  the  past,  and  thank  God  that  the  friends  of 
many  years  still  live,  and,  best  of  all,  that  I  still  live 
in  their  affections.  Perhaps  I  may  meet  you  all 
again  —  the  old  trees  and  the  young  sprouts;  but 
gray  hairs  make  me  cautious,  and  experience  abates 
my  confidence.  What  am  I,  that  I  dare  ask  for 
more  ?  We  must  make  room  for  other  guests,  who 
are  pressing  forward  to  their  places  at  the  table  — 
and  Heaven's  will  be  done. 

You  speak  of  the  war  with  Mexico.  I  can  scarcely 
believe  that  any  war  is  necessary,  and,  therefore,  no 
war  is  justifiable, — and  least  of  all  others  is  the 
government  of  the  United  States  suited  for  war.  The 
decisive  battle  already  fought  will,  I  hope,  tend  to 
bring  the  contest  to  a  speedy  termination.  The  set- 
tlement of  the  Oregon  question  is  here,  among  all 
classes,  the  subject  of  hearty  congratulation.  Cer- 
tainly, on  the  part  of  the  better  class  of  the  English, 
there  was  no  inclination,  but  a  great  aversion,  to  a 
war  with  the  United  States,  —  but   they  feel    their 


LETTER    CXXXI.  85 

power.  Extraordinary  success  in  India  has  made 
them  somewhat  arrogant,  and  they  were  prepared  to 
strike  a  heavy  blow,  had  hostilities  occurred.  No 
man  could  foresee  the  issue  of  such  a  war  to  either 
country.  The  agreement  which  has  now  been  made, 
and  the  spirit  and  manner,  on  both  sides,  in  which 
it  has  been  reached,  seem  to  give  an  assurance  of  a 
long  continued  peace.  May  it  be  perpetual,  and  may 
the  two  great  nations,  standing  preeminently  in  the 
front  rank  of  the  civilized  world,  devote  themselves 
to  the  proper  objects  of  government  —  the  welfare, 
the  education,  the  protection,  and  the  improvement 
of  the  governed. 

I  have  no  gossip  to  tell  you.  London  has  been 
full  to  overflowing,  and  never  has  been  more  gay ; 
but  the  season  is  fast  drawing  to  a  close.  The  great 
measures  of  the  government  have  been  passed,  the 
sporting  season  is  approaching,  and  bodies,  as  well 
as  minds,  need  the  relaxation  and  quiet  of  rural  life, 
and  the  recreation  of  rural  sports.  With  a  large 
portion  of  the  highest  classes,  pleasure  seems  to  con- 
stitute the  end  and  aim  of  their  being  ;  and  the  con- 
trasts which  are  to  be  met  with,  in  other  conditions, 
are  sufficiently  painful,  —  but  1  will  not  moralize. 


LETTER  CXXXL 

'  »   «   «   • 

To  Mrs.  W . 

Well,  my  dear  friend,  you  are  not  guilty  ;    then 
the  honor  of  the family  is  maintained  ;  honesty 


86  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

is  Still  bright  upon  their  escutcheon.  You  did  not 
combine  to  rob  me  of  my  property  —  it  was  your 
husband  then,  who  breaks  the  tenth  commandment. 
O,  how  came  you  to  marry  him  ?     I  can  only  advise 

you  to  do  as  poor  Mrs.  C has  done,  and  make 

the  best  of  a  bad  bargain.  I  am  gltid  you  liked  the 
autographs,  and  in  my  eyes  their  value  is  ten  times 
increased  by  the  pleasure  they  have  given  you.  I 
shall  collect  a  few  more,  but  I  may  not  be  able  to 
keep  them  out  of  some  fair  hands  on  this  side  of  the 
water,  who,  I  am  not  quite  sure,  would  not  be  half 
ready  to  take  the  poor  owner  himself,  if  he  were 
come-at-able,  rather  than  not  have  the  autographs,  so 
strong  does  a  ruling  passion  become  when  stimulated 
by  excessive  indulgence.  What  a  clamor  I  have 
raised  by  sending  that  book  over  the  water.  "  I 
ought  not  to  have  done  it."  "  What  do  those  semi- 
barbarians  want  of  autographs  ?  "  "I  might ,  at  least, 
have  given  a  few  to  my  friends  here ;  "  then  they 
become  more  bold  and  arrogant,  —  "I  had  no  right, 
it  was  very  improper  in  me  to  give  away  what  had 
been  given  to  me."  So  the  whole  rookery  is  about 
my  ears,  and  down  they  come,  cawing  and  cawing, 
sailing  over  my  head,  and  occasionally  descending 
upon  me  with  a  fierceness  of  spirit  which  I  could 
scarcely  think  dwelt  in  such  fair  forms.  But  I  make 
all  sorts  of  excuses,  —  patriotism,  friendship,  affec- 
tion —  I  appeal  to  their  compassion,  which  Dr.  Kirk- 
land  used  to  say  was  always  effectual  among  his 
female  parishioners,  and  they  begin  to  soften.  I 
repent,  and  they  pity  me.  I  promise  amendment, 
and  hold  out  hopes  of  benefactions  to  themselves, 


LETTER    CXXXI.  87 

and  they  become  pacified.  I  must  keep  the  peace, 
for  I  am  not  belligerent,  like  the  rest  of  the  Ameri- 
cans, and  I  cannot  think  of  perpetual  hostility  with 
some  of  the  fairest  and  sweetest  embodiments  of  all 
that  is  bright  in  intellect  and  lovely  in  character, 
which  heaven  has  placed  upon  this  earth. 

Thank  your  husband  a  thousand  times  for  the 
letter  of  Franklin.  It  came  most  opportunely  —  1 
received  it  on  Monday ;  on  Tuesday,  I  was  coming 
by  appointment  here,  and  had  the  pleasure  of  pre- 
senting to  my  friend ,  what  she  had  most  anx- 
iously desired  to  possess.  He  must  get  me  a  letter 
of  Washington,  if  he  can,  and  I  know  he  can  ;  and 
one  of  John  Adams,  of  which  I  have  enough  myself, 
if  1  could  get  at  them ;  and  of  Thomas  Jefferson,  to 
whose  character  the  lapse  of  time  lends  interest  and 
importance. 

This  place  is  about miles  from  London  ;  you 

reach  it  by  rail  and  by  private  conveyance,  through 
a  flat,  well  cultivated,  but  uninteresting  country.  In 
this  neighborhood,  the  face  of  the  country  is  undu- 
lating, and  the  rich  crops,  and  beautiful  trees  standing 
sometimes  alone  in  forlorn  celibacy,  and  sometimes 
in  pairs,  like  a  childless  couple,  and  sometimes  in 
clumps  tall  and  short,  like  a  numerous  family,  and 
sometimes  in  a  thick  forest,  like  a  city  crowd,  give  a 
charming  variety  and  beauty  to  the  scene.  In  front 
of  my  window,  where  I  now  sit  writing,  is  an  avenue 
of  magnificent  elms  of  two  or  three  miles  in  extent; 
hundreds  of  deer,  —  the  old,  with  their  branching 
antlers,  and  the  fawns  trying  their  slender  limbs,  and 
glad  to  find  themselves  alive,  are  playing  among  the 


^  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

trees.  The  grounds  are  everywhere  extremely  beau- 
tiful, not  a  fence  in  any  direction  intercepts  the  view, 
for  though  there  are  fences,  they  are  either  of  green 
wire,  and  consequently  invisible,  or  else  they  are 
ditches,  called  ha !  has  !  and  are  not  seen  till  you 
reach  them.  The  front  grounds  of  the  house  are 
cultivated  with  the  flowers  of  the  season,  arranged  in 
elegant  and  tasteful  parterres,  and  intermixed  with 
shrubbery  in  the  prettiest  manner  possible.  The 
house  is  more  than  four  hundred  feet  long,  and  at 
the  ends  of  the  flags  is  a  pretty  church  and  parsonage 
belonging  exclusively  to  the  family,  and  the  cottages 
attached  to  the  estate ;  after  all,  the  charm  of  the 
whole  is  within  the  house.  There  are  several  large 
rooms,  full  of  magnificent  pictures,  principally  of 
ancient  art,  the  works  of  some  of  the  great  masters  ; 
here  are  pieces  of  statuary  rivalling  life  itself,  and 
the  production  of  which  seems  the  perfection  of  art ; 
and  here  is  a  library  of  nearly  a  hundred  feet  long, 
and  more  than  twenty  feet  in  height,  full  of  the 
noblest  classical  and  modern  works  of  genius,  and 
here  are  tables  covered  with  articles  of  vertu  and 
books  of  plates;  among  others,  the  magnificent  work 
of  Audubon,  in  elegant  gilt  red  morocco  binding,  and 
hundreds  of  other  splendid  works,  forming  suitable 
accompaniments.  But  again,  the  charm  of  the  whole, 
is  the  presiding  divinity  of  this  temple  of  beauty  and 
taste.  The  more  I  see  her,  the  more  I  admire  her. 
I  cannot,  for  the  life  of  me,  find  any  ground  of 
abatement  of  my  respect.  She  is  so  bright  and 
beaming,  so  full  of  good  humor  and  sparkling  wit,  so 
elegant  and  courteous,  so  unafiected,  direct,  simple, 


LETTER    CXXXl.  89 

frank,  intelligent,  in  perception  so  acute,  in  conversa- 
tion when  animated,  so  eloquent,  so  graceful,  with- 
out even  a  shade  of  mannerism,  and  so  serious  and 
devout,  without  the  slightest  tinge  of  cant,  that  I 
must  say  she  is  a  model  for  her  sex. 

I  leave  to-day,  with  great  regret ;  for  every  thing 
in  this  world  must  have  an  end.  I  should  like  to 
say  a  good  deal  more  to  you,  but  then,  I  fear  there 
would  be  an  end  of  you.  I  shall  finish  this  in  Lon- 
don. 

I  passed  four  hours  yesterday  in  Cambridge.  It  is 
now  vacation,  and  the  town  is  almost  as  dull  as  a 
city  with  the  plague.  But  the  magnificent  buildings 
are  there,  and  the  charming  grounds  ;  and  though  I 
am  aware  that  the  popular  taste  is  generally  the 
other  way,  I  prefer  Cambridge  to  Oxford. 

I  send  your  husband  an  autograph  letter  of  Ram- 
mohun  Roy,  which  I  was  very  fortunate  to  obtain, 
since  I  sent  him  merely  a  signature.  Please  let  him 
keep  the  signature  subject  to  my  order,  unless  he  has 
an  opportunity  of  soon  returning  it  to  me  without 
expense,  as  I  want  it  for  a  friend  here.  1  consider 
Rammohun  Roy  as  one  of  the  greatest  minds  that 
ever  appeared  on  earth  ;  and  to  be  ranked  with  such 
minds  as  Newton,  Locke,  and  Milton.  Those  who 
knew  him,  speak  of  him  in  terms,  I  may  almost  say, 
of  admiration  approaching  to  sublimity.  I  send  him 
likewise  a  note  of  a  distinguished  lady,  whom  I  have 
seen  a  good  deal,  the  Countess  Hahn  Hahn,  whose 
works  are  numerous,  and  have,  I  believe,  been  trans- 
lated and  published  in  the  United  States. 

I   forget  whether  you  are  musical  or  not,  but  I 


90         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

want  to  see  a  thorough  revolution  in  church  music, 

and  the  style  of  sacred  poetry. 

•     I  often  attend  a  chapel  here,  where  the  music  is 

celestial,  and  as  far  from  the  hum  drum,  twaddling 

gibberish  which  still  prevails  in  many  churches,  as 

possible. 

I  want  to  see  a  good  many  changes,  in  a  variety 
of  matters,  but  I  fear  I  shall  die  without  the  sight. 
Whether  any  progress  is  made  in  the  world,  in  actual 
improvement,  I  am  sometimes  skeptical.  There  is 
one  thing,  however,  in  which  I  wish  no  change,  ex- 
cepting in  the  elevation  and  sanctity,  which  time 
itself  gives,  and  that  is  the  affection  and  regard  which 
I  must  ever  cherish  for  yourself  and  your  husband 
and  my  dear  friends  of  your  father's  household. 
Adieu. 


LETTER  CXXXII. 

London,  3d  July,  18i6. 
Mt  Deab  S : 

A  VERT  short  time  is  left  me  to  say  a  few  words  in 
addition  to  what  I  wrote  to  a  common  friend  three 
days  ago.  I  have  just  returned  from  a  visit  to  Lord 
Hardwicke's,  at  Wimpole,  Cambridgeshire.  They 
had  lately  asked  me  to  come  and  see  them  before 
they  go  to  their  lodge  at  the  sea  side  for  the  remain- 
der of  the  summer,  and  I  was  wholly  unwilling  to 
forego  the  pleasure.  They  wish  me  to  spend  a  few 
days  with  them  there,  but  that  I  cannot  do.     Kinder 


LETTER    CXXXII.  91 

friends  a  man  cannot  have ;  their  superiors  in  man- 
ners, education,  character,  and  every  quality  that  dig- 
nifies and  adorns  life,  are,  I  am  persuaded  —  and  the 
opinion  is  unanimous,  with  those  who  know  them  — 
not  to  be  found.  I  feel  that  it  is  no  small  honor, 
and  know  that  it  is  no  small  pleasure,  to  be  received 
as  the  friend  of  such  a  household.  My  visit  was  per- 
fectly delightful,  and  had  but  one  single  abatement, 
that   I  must  enjoy  it  alone,  and  cannot  impart  nor 

share   it  with  you   over    the    water.       Had   A 

C arrived  she   would  have  gone  with  me,  as 

Lady  Hardwicke  kindly  desired  me  to  bring  her. 
was  to  have  staid  until  this  morning,  but  having  had 
a  private  opportunity  of  being    conveyed   to  Cam- 
bridge, I  determined  to  accept  it,  though  Lady  Hard- 
wicke kindly  protested  against  it. 

The  place  is  a  magnificent  one.  The  tract  con- 
nected with  the  house  is  eight  miles  in  a  straight 
line  in  one  direction  from  the  house,  and  three  in 
another.  Lord  Hardwicke  has  eighty  large  farms 
tenanted,  and  three  hundred  small  farms  ;  six  hun- 
dred cottages,  heads  of  families,  besides  four  thou- 
sand acres  in  one  estate  in  another  county,  and  five 
thousand  acres  in  the  Cambridge  fens,  some  of  the 
richest  lands  in  the  world. 

I  cannot  now  give  you  an  account  of  my  visit, 
which  is  indeed  my  third  visit  at  Wimpole,  and  each 
one  made  with  increasing  pleasure.  The  comforts 
and  luxuries  of  such  a  residence  cannot  be  exceeded. 
I  arrived  at  half-past  six  ;  the  servants  met  me  at  the 
door  and  told  me  the  dressing  bell  had  rung,  and 
showed  me  to  my  chamber,  where  I  found  my  name 


i2  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

was  already  fixed  in  a  small  sliding  tablet  on  the 
door,  and  the  pitcher  of  hot  water  was  smoking  on 
the  table.  I  did  not  find  a  large  party,  but  a  most 
agreeable  one.  Among  others,  I  met  here  a  lady 
whom  I  had  long  desired  to  see,  and  to  whom  Lady 
Hardwicke  had  expressed  a  wish  to  introduce  me, 
who  is  a  fair  example  of  that  high  culture  of  mind 
and  that  independence  of  thought  and  opinion  by 
which  the  superior  class  of  minds  is  distinguished, 
and  by  an  acuteness  of  perception  and  brilliancy  of 
wit,  which,  if  sometimes  satirical  and  caustic,  yet, 
when  guarded  by  an  elegant  courtesy  and  benevo- 
lence, is  always  admirable  and  delightful.  Hon.  Mr. 
Liddell,  the  brother  of  Lady  Hardwicke,  who  is  here, 
has  kindly  invited  me  to  visit  him  at  Ravensworth 
Castle,  week  after  next,  to  spend  a  few  days  with  a 
large  party,  and  to  meet  there  the  Duke  of  Cam- 
bridge. But  it  would  cost  more  time  than  I  can 
spare,  so  I  forego  the  pleasure  ;  not,  however,  the 
less  indebted  to  his  kindness.  I  hope  to  have  some 
opportunity  of  making  this  agreeable  visit  before  I 
leave  England. 

The  ladies,  Mr.  Liddell,  and  myself,  took  a  long 
drive  on  Wednesday,  through  a  beautiful  country, 
and  yesterday  I  drove  with  Lord  Hardwicke  to  Cam- 
bridge. This  is  my  third  visit  to  Cambridge,  which 
I  find  a  great  deal  more  pleasant  than  Oxford  —  cer- 
tainly in  the  beautiful  pleasure  grounds  which  sur- 
round the  college. 

I  returned  in  the  evening  to  London.  This  eve- 
ning I  dine  at  an  intimate  friend's,  Mr.  Preston  ;  to- 
morrow, 4th  of  July,  with  the  Simpkinsons,  whose 


LETTER    CXXXII.  93 

friendship  and  kindness  to  me  have  been  most  devot- 
ed and  delightful.  Sunday,  at  Mr.  Chamberlain's ; 
Monday,  through  the  kindness  of  Mr.  Courage,  I 
attend  the  examination  of  one  of  the  public  schools  in 
London,  and  dine  with  the  wardens  and  governors  at 
Greenwich,  down  the  river.  The  dinner  hour,  com- 
ing after  the  day's  work,  is  extremely  convenient, 
though,  I  confess,  I  am  obliged  often  to  trespass  upon 
the  night,  as  I  did  not  see  my  bed  last  night  until 
nearly  two,  and  was  up  this  morning  soon  after  six. 

I  hope  I  shall  have  an  opportunity  of  letting  you 
into  the  secrets  of  housekeeping  here,  which  seems 
to  me  carried  to  an  extraordinary  degree  of  perfec- 
tion. I  was  as  much  at  home  at  Lord  Hardwicke's 
as  I  should  have  been  in  my  own  house,  and  was 
left  at  perfect  liberty  to  do  as  I  pleased.  Arriving 
late  on  Tuesday  evening,  my  arrangements  were  as 
rapid  as  possible ;  but,  having  left  my  carpet  bags 
unlocked,  I  found  the  next  day,  after  I  left  my  cham- 
ber, every  thing  taken  out  and  put  in  perfect  order ; 
my  writing  apparatus  arranged  upon  the  table ;  my 
shaving  apparatus  and  brushes  put  upon  the  toilet; 
my  linen  and  handkerchiefs  carefully  folded  and  laid 
in  the  drawers  ;  my  slippers  put  side  by  side,  ready 
for  me  to  jump  into  them  ;  and  at  night,  before  the 
dressing  bell,  my  clean  linen  taken  out  and  hung 
upon  a  chair  to  be  aired  ;  my  dress  clothes  brushed 
and  folded  in  the  neatest  manner ;  my  cravat  and 
pocket  handkerchiefs  and  stockings  laid  neatly  upon 
the  table  ;  my  shoes  placed  ready  to  be  put  on  at 
once ;  hot  water,  cold  water,  plenty  of  towels  ;  a 
large  tub  of  water  for  a  bath,  and  a  gum-elastic  rug 


94  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

to  guard  the  carpet ;  a  light  to  burn  through  the 
night,  a  wax  candle  for  sealing  letters  ;  two  wax  can- 
dles for  evening  ;  paper,  prepared  pens,  ink,  sealing- 
wax,  wafers,  envelopes,  blotting  book,  «fec.,  &c,,  and 
a  servant  to  come  at  the  ringing  of  the  bell.  I  do 
not  wonder  the  English  find  some  inconveniences 
when  they  leave  home ;  and,  for  my  part,  I  wonder 
that  they  can  ever  go  from  home. 

The  season  here  now  for  two  months  has  been  as 
fine  as  could  be  known,  and  there  is  every  prospect 
of  a  most  abundant  harvest.     I  saw  your  delightful 

friends.  Miss  R and  Miss  G and  hope,  when 

this  reaches  you,  you  will  have    seen   Miss  B , 

who  seems  a  pleasing,  amiable  person.  I  meant  to 
have  sent  by  her  father,  a  plan  of  a  boat  which  is  to 
make  the  passage  to  America  in  six  days,  but  I  can- 
not do  it  to-day.  I  have  no  great  confidence  in  the 
success  of  the  experiment.     Yours  affectionately. 


LETTER  CXXXIII. 

London,  16th  July,  1846. 
Mt  Dear  J : 

I  WAS  much  gratified  to  receive  your  postscript  to 

's  letter,  and  most  happy  to  find  you,  after  perils 

by  sea  and  perils  by  land,  safely  arrived  at  home.  I 
think  you  must  have  been  interested  in  passing  up 
the  Mississippi,  though  I  know  that  the  annoyances 
and  inconveniences  of  such  a  passage,  almost  inevi- 
table in  a  crowded   steamboat,  are  very  great,  and 


LETTER    CXXXIII.  96 

scarcely  endurable.  I  have  been  on  the  Mississippi, 
only  from  the  junction  of  the  Ohio  to  St.  Louis,  and 
was  then  so  miserably  ill  as  not  to  enjoy  it.  I  sup- 
pose below  that  point  the  country  is  flat  and  uninte- 
resting, excepting  at  the  Bluff's,  called  I  believe,  the 
Yellow  Stone,  or  Iron  Mountain  ;  but  after  you  come 
into  the  Ohio,  in  ascending,  the  banks  present  more 
variety.  Bind  the  towns  and  villages  are,  I  dare  say, 
more  improved  and  agreeable.  An  emigrant  popula- 
tion, however,  with  which  all  the  boats  and  convey- 
ances in  such  cases  are  thronged,  is  a  most  disagree- 
able one,  and  the  offensive  condition  of  the  boats, 
and  the  habits  of  the  passengers,  and  withal  the  ver- 
min, who  make  very  free  in  providing  for  themselves, 
are  a  great  abatement  of  the  pleasure  of  the  transit. 

I  must  refer  you  to  my  letters  to  other  friends  for 
news  in  respect  to  myself,  and  for  my  plans  in  refer- 
ence to  my  further  stay  in  Europe.  The  settlement 
of  the  Oregon  question  makes  an  immense  difference 
in  the  state  of  feeling  here,  which  had  begun  to  be 
excessively  irritable  and  uncomfortable  to  an  Ameri- 
can ;  and  if  the  indebted  states  would  honestly  pay 
or  honorably  provide  for  the  payment  of  their  debts, 
and  the  United  States  abandon  their  aggressive  war 
upon  Mexico,  the  American  name  would  be  a  much 
more  welcome  passport  to  travel  with,  thsm  it  has 
been  or  now  is,  either  in  this  country  or  on  the  conti- 
nent.    This  good  I  think  we  may  confidently  expect. 

1  cannot  say  I  like  my  solitary  life,  and  I  suppose 
I  shall  like  it  still  less  when  I  go  into  a  foreign  coun- 
try, for  England  has  ceased  to  be  one.  London  is  as 
familiar  to  me  as  Boston,  and  even  the  old  inhabitants 
oft»n  refer  to  me  for  information.     Adieu. 


96  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNER*. 


LETTER  CXXXIV. 

London,  18th  August,  1846. 
Mt  Dear  R : 

Your  usual  punctuality  did  not  disappoint  me,  and 
I  have  to  thank  you  for  your  kind  letter  of  the  30th 
July,  received  warm  from  the  pen,  and  only  twelve 
days  old.  I  was  much  obliged,  likewise,  by  the  two 
postscripts.  I  am  glad  you  have  been  at  Bristol, 
because  I  know  much  pleasure  must  have  been  given 
as  well  as  received.  I  am  amusedrat  your  rebellion 
against  the  breakfast  and  dinner  hours.  At  first,  I 
found  it  extremly  difficult  to  adjust  matters  to  so 
entirely  different  a  condition  of  things  as  I  find  here, 
from  what  I  left  at  home  ;  but,  with  a  facility  which 
surprises  myself,  I  have  become  naturalized  to  dine 
at  any  hour  after  one,  until  eight  in  the  evening ;  it 
has,  indeed,  sometimes  been  nine  before  we  sat 
down ;  and  as  to  night  and  day,  they  have  become 
so  entirely  confounded,  that  I  scarcely  can  keep  the 
day  of  the  month ;  and  though  I  seldom  lie  in  bed 
after  seven,  it  is  as  seldom  that  I  can  ever  think  of 
bed  until  one ;  and  have  three  times,  within  the  last 
week,  walked  four  miles  after  twelve  at  night.  I  am 
not  sensible  of  suffering  any  particular  evil,  but  I  con- 
fess it  is  extremely  inconvenient.  How  to  help  it, 
and  keep  in  the  world,  I  don't  know.  For  example, 
a  note  of  invitation  to  Sir  James  Bathurst's,fto  meet 
some  very  agreeable  persons  whom  I  wished  to  see, 
came  last  week,  fixing  half-past  ten  as  the  hour  — 


LETTER    CXKXIV.  97 

this  is  four  miles  from  my  home.  I  could  not  with 
propriety,  go  until  eleven.  I  came  away  the  first  of 
the  party,  at  quarter-past  twelve,  just  as  they  were 
going  to  supper.  Miss  Barthurst,  a  delightful  friend, 
wrote  to  me  a  note  the  next  day,  almost  charging  me 
with  incivility  for  leaving  so  early,  and  taking  French 
leave.  I  lost  all  the  charming  music  —  but  I  did 
not  reach  home  until  half-past  one.  Now  this  is  a 
small  specimen  of  London  life,  excepting  that  other 
people  go  in  their  carriages,  and  1  have  no  other  con- 
veyance than  my  shoes. 

I  have  given  myself  two  indulgencies  recently, 
which  it  may  gratify  you  to  know.  The  one  was 
at  the  Opera,  the  other  at  the  French  Theatre.  I 
have  not  been  at  the  Opera  for  more  than  a  year.  I 
have  been  at  the  French  Theatre,  which  is  the  most 
agreeable  of  any  in  London,  only  once  for  a  year  and 
a  half  But  now  the  inducements  were  so  strong 
that  I  yielded. 

The  first,  was  to  see  Taglioni  and  a  constellation 
of  danseuses.  I  can  think  of  nothing  more  brilliant 
in  that  line.  She  seems  perfectly  etherial.  The 
music,  the  scenery,  the  dramatis  personae,  the  audi- 
ence, the  performances,  were  all  perfectly  delightful, 
and  expanded  my  ideality  to  its  utmost  bounds.  But 
I  had  still  a  much  richer  treat  in  store,  and  that  was 
at  the  French  Theatre  last  week,  to  see  Mademoiselle 
Rachel  in  the  Horatii.  I  had  had  a  strong  inclina- 
tion to  go  before,  but  I  resisted  until  I  found  it  was 
her  last  night.  I  strolled  down,  still  only  half  deter- 
mined to  go,  until  at  last,  I  got  into  the  stream  and 
went  with  the  current.     Now,  I  have  only  to  say, 

VOL.    II.  6 


^  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

that  for  the  kind  of  pleasure,  iio_  two  hours  of  my 
life  were  ever  passed  in  such  a  state  of  excitement. 
I  never  before  so  much  idolized  genius,  and  my 
heart  never  was  fuller  of  reverence  for  God,  who  had 
endued  a  human  being  with  such  wonderful  power. 
It  was  not  acting,  it  was  reality;  and  a  reality  em- 
bodying the  deepest  emotion  which  the  human  heart 
can  feel,  and  the  loftiest  sentiment  which  the  human 
mind  can  breathe.  I  have  no  words  to  express  my 
admiration.  The  sea  rolls  with  me  now  as  heavily 
as  it  did  in  the  midst  of  the  storm,  and  I  do  n't  know 
when  I  shall  get  it  over.  I  never  knew  before  what 
acting  (I  do  not  like  to  call  it  acting,  only  for  want 
of  a  better  word)  was,  and  it  seems  to  me  I  shall 
never  enjoy  any  other.  I  believe  the  sentiment 
■was  universal.  The  audience  were  transfixed  with 
emotion,  and  subdued  by  tears,  by  admiration,  by 
breathless  excitement,  and  an  intensity  of  feeling, 
that  amounted  almost  to  agony. 

She  is  only  about  twenty-five  years  old.  She  was 
a  poor  orange-girl  and  ballad-singer  about  the  thea- 
tres in  Paris,  and  was  accustomed  to  sing  in  the 
streets.  A  gentleman  was  struck  with  her  powers 
and  appearance,  and  undertook  to  educate  her  for  a 
singer  ;  but  the  result  disappointed  his  expectations. 
She,  herself,  after  witnessing  a  tragedy,  desired  to  be 
permitted  to  try  a  part ;  and  after  many  importuni- 
ties was  allowed  to  attempt  it.  The  consequence 
was,  that  she  has  developed  unrivalled  power.  You 
may  judge  how  she  is  esteemed  as  an  artist,  —  she 
receives  £150,  or  $750,  a  night.  Instead  of  com- 
plaining of  5s.,  if  I  were  a  rich  man  I  should  have 


LETTER    CXXXIV.  99 

thought  my  evening's  entertainment  cheap  enough 
at  £5.  Do  'nt  think  I  am  out  of  my  senses  —  but  I 
am  an  adorer  of  true  genius  ;  and  this  was  displayed 
in  what  is  evidently  a  very  fragile  form,  not  beauti- 
ful, but  pleasing ;  and  in  so  simple  and  unaffected  a 
manner,  and  without  the  appearance  of  the  least  con- 
sciousness of  acting  or  representation*,  or  that  even  a 
single  eye  was  upon  her,  that  I  certainly  shall  have 
a  most  delicious  pleasure  for  my  memory,  so  long 
as  I  have  any  memory  left.  Last  evening  I  had  a 
different  entertainment.  I  saw  advertised  a  meeting 
of  an  anti-slavery  league,  and  that  Garrison,  Wright, 
and  Douglass,  &c.,  were  to  hold  forth.  I  thought  I 
should  like  to  hear  some  familiar  and  accustomed 
voices,  and  to  shake  hands  with  some  old  friends. 
The  meeting  was  well  attended.  Mrs.  Bailey,  a  good 
friend,  where  I  dined  at  five,  wished  to  go  with  me, 
and  we  did  not  leave  the  meeting,  which  was  then 
in  full  blast,  until  after  twelve.  I  got  home  about 
half-past  one. 

Douglass  rivals  Matthews,  in  his  powers  of  imita- 
tion ;  he  was  exceedingly  entertaining,  and  was  re- 
ceived and  heard  with  a  tempest  of  applause  con- 
tinually bursting  about  his  ears.  Wright  was  very 
caustic.  Garrison,  whom  I  believe  to  be  honest  and 
disinterested,  and  certainly  to  be  admired  for  his  con- 
sistency and  perseverance,  was  violent  and  virulent 
beyond  precedent.  The  speeches  were  a  continued 
attack  upon  the  United  States  and  some  Presbyte- 
rian clergymen,  who  have  come  here  to  attend  the 
Evangelical  Alliance,  the  object  of  which  is  to  put 
down  popery. 


100         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

I  cannot  say  that  a  fugitive  slave,  knowing  by  his 
own  experience  the  miseries  of  the  condition,  and 
again  a  man,  (who,  in  a  free  country,  for  the  bold 
utterance  of  his  opinions,  has  suffered  a  long  impris- 
onment and  been  dragged  through  the  public  streets 
of  a  free  city  with  a  halter  about  his  neck,)  have  not 
a  right  to  be  plain  spoken,  denunciatory,  and  severe. 
Such  unqualified  and  violent  attacks  upon  my  own 
country,  which  seemed  to  give  such  a  malignant 
pleasure  to  those  who  heard  them,  were  not  alto- 
gether to  my  taste  ;  but  freedom  of  discussion  I  main- 
tain as  a  sacred  and  indefeasible  right,  and  leave  to 
every  man  the  full  utterance  and  enjoyment  of  his 
opinions. 

Shoals  of  Americans,  abolitionists,  temperance 
agents,  propagandists,  and  end-of-the-worid-men,  are 
now  here,  trying  to  kindle  a  fire,  and  they  find  here 
and  there  a  pile  of  fagots  which  will  burn.  The 
audience  last  night  seemed  delighted  beyond  meas- 
ure, to  hear  the  United  States  abused  as  they  were, 
so  severely.  It  was  not  for  me  to  enter  the  lists,  and 
advise  "  those  who  live  in  glass  houses  not  to  throw 
stones,"  and  I  leave  all  these  matters  to  take  their 
own  course,  in  the  confidence  that  truth  and  right 
will  ultimately  prevail.     Adieu. 


LETTEB   CXXXV.  101 


LETTER  CXXXV. 

London,  3d  September,  1846. 
My  Dear  Sir: 

I  SEND  you  the  papers,  which  give  you  a  full  view 
of  public  affairs ;  and  of  personal  matters,  I  know 
that  my  other  letters  to  Boston  keep  you  fully  ap- 
prised. 

Parliament  now  having  adjourned,  and  the  legis- 
lators and  ministers  of  state  having  gone  grouse- 
shooting  and  hare-coursing,  one  great  subject  of 
interest  in  the  morning  papers,  the  debates  of  the 
previous  evening,  has  failed  ;  and  we  are  obliged  to 
put  up  with  the  few  murders,  and  stabbings,  and 
forgeries,  and  assaults,  and  drunken  frolics,  which 
the  police  report  of  the  previous  day  furnishes.  In 
this  matter,  there  is  certainly  no  lack  of  material.  I 
cannot  say,  that,  considering  the  amount  of  popula- 
tion crowded  into  so  narrow  a  space  as  that  of  Lon- 
don, and  concentrating,  as  it  naturally  would,  all  the 
floating  dregs  of  the  community,  that  the  number  of 
crimes  is  excessive  ;  but  the  enormity  and  horrible 
character  of  them  is  certainly  most  striking,  and 
leave  the  English  no  ground  of  reproach  upon  the 
Americans  for  duelling,  gouging,  or  Lynch  law,  and 
almost  render  Ireland  a  moral  Paradise.  Where  this 
is  to  end,  I  don't  see  ;  for  the  tendency  of  crime  is, 
according  to  universal  experience,  to  beget  crime, 
and  it  often  seems  to  acquire  an  extraordinary  prolific- 


102         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

ness  in  proportion  to  its  enormity.  Yet  with  all  this, 
the  streets  of  London  exhibit,  both  by  night  and  day, 
a  wonderful  decorum,  and  in  many  parts  of  it  are  as 
still  as  in  the  country.  This  strongly  impresses  me, 
for  I  very  often  walk  home,  four  miles,  after  mid- 
night ;  and,  excepting  the  interruptions  of  those  most 
pitiable  and  wretched  of  all  objects,  which  this  earth 
presents,  the  unfortunate  women  who  haunt  the 
streets  even,  I  believe,  until  day-light,  and  who  are 
never  rude,  unless  they  happen  to  be  drunk,  I  am  as 
quiet  and  unmolested  as  I  should  be  in  a  country 
village ;  and,  out  of  the  great  thoroughfares,  where 
the  current  of  human  life  scarcely  ever  ceases  to 
flow,  seldom  meet  but  here  and  there  a  straggler, 
excepting  a  policeman,  whom  you  find  at  every  cor- 
ner. These  men,  indeed,  are  the  conservators  of  the 
public  peace,  and  it  seems  to  me  no  arrangement  was 
ever  better  adapted  to  preserve  it. 

The  free-trade  measures  of  the  government  have 
not,  as  yet,  produced  any  sensible  effect  upon  prices. 
Large  numbers  of  live  animals  come  from  the  conti- 
nent, Holland,  and  Spain,  to  the  great  markets,  but 
they  have  no  effect,  such  is  the  immense  and  increas- 
ing demand.  Wheat,  which  went  down  at  first 
about  five  shillings  in  a  quarter,  has  again  rallied, 
because  of  the  demand  on  the  Continent.  It  is  not 
quite  so  high  as  last  year  at  this  time,  but  that  is 
probably  to  be  attributed  to  two  causes  ;  first,  the 
extraordinary  crop ;  for  I  believe  it  has  been  seldom 
better,  and  next,  to  the  failure  of  the  potato  crop,  for 
which  the  bread  grains  are  the  only  substitute.  I 
believe  it  actually  needed  a  famine,  to  induce  the 


LETTER    CXXXV.  103 

Irish  to  eat  Indian  meal ;  but  the  poor  starving 
wretches  having  once  got  a  taste,  now  begin  to  relish 
it,  and  I  don't  know  what  else  is  to  save  them  from 
destruction. 

The  new  government  having  carried  the  sugar 
bill,  and  withdrawn  the  Irish  arms  bill,  and  bsing  i:\ 
the  process  of  restoring  the  repeal  magistrates  dis- 
placed by  the  former  administration,  have,  at  present, 
plain  sailing  ;  but  it  is  thought,  generally,  that  when 
some  test-measures  come  up,  and  come  of  course, 
presently,  they  must,  and  parties  are  organized,  they 
will  not  be  without  embarrassments,  which  they  will 
find  it  difficult  to  surmount.  At  present,  however, 
they  must  remain,  for  the  Tory  party  is  utterly  un- 
popular through  the  country;  the  conservatives  are 
broken  up,  and  their  only  leader.  Sir  Robert  Peel, 
cannot  be  restored  —  the  whigs  therefore,  with  Lord 
John  Russell  at  their  head,  are  the  only  remaining 
resource. 

We  are  curious  to  know  what  is  to  be  the  result  of 
things.  In  Manchester,  trade  at  present  is  at  the 
lowest  point  of  depression,  waiting  for  the  operation 
of  the  new  tariff,  the  second  of  December.  No  hu- 
man sagacity  can  predict  in  this  case,  with  any  con- 
fidence, so  many  and  such  different  circumstances 
combine  to  effect  a  result.  Trade  seems  to  have 
everywhere,  its  ebbs  and  floods,  and,  though  not  so 
regular,  yet  fully  as  certain.  Ln  all  these  cases,  mat- 
ters, if  let  alone,  like  disturbed  water,  are  sure  to 
adjust  themselves. 

How  you  are  to  carry  on  the  Mexican  war  with 
the  Sub  Treasury,  it  puzzles  pretty  wise  heads  to 
determine.     We  are  glad  to  see  a  movement  on  the 


104        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

part  of  Government,  in  favor  of  peace  ;  but  we  don't 
give  them  much  credit  for  sincerity.  Why  did  they 
begin  the  war  ?     Yours  truly. 


LETTER  CXXXVI. 

London,  8tli  September,  1846. 
Mt  Dear  M : 

My  departure  for  the  Continent  will  soon  make  my 
communications  much  more  rare  than  they  have 
been.  Foreign  postage  is  an  object  here,  but  on  the 
Continent  it  is  so  high  as  almost  "to  forbid  frequent 
letters,"  and  private  conveyances  are  nearly  prohib- 
ited. There  is  an  old  Latin  proverb,  that  "  no  man 
is  wise  at  all  times."  Unfortunately,  some  of  us  are 
never  wise,  and  more  than  that,  have  not  the  power 
to  be.  Mr.  Emerson  said,  in  one  of  his  lectures,  that 
no  man  ever  had  a  new  idea  after  he  was  thirty  years 
old ;  at  that  rate,  how  barren  must  be  the  minds  of 
those  of  us  poor  creatures,  who  are  sixty,  and  who 
have  lost  what  few,  if  any,  they  had  before  thirty. 
I  do  not  think  it  will  be  possible  for  me  to  get  away 
to  the  Continent  before  the  next  boat.  There  is 
much  to  be  done  before  I  leave  England.  I  am 
anxious  to  see  my  seventh  number,  that  I  may  take 
an  observation  of  my  position.  It  is  a  matter  which 
I  hardly  know  how  to  account  for,  that,  although  I 
can  remember  every  thing  when  in  progress,  yet 
when  the  matter  is  completed,  I  even  forget  where  I 
left  off,  and  I  read  my  own   numbers  with  almost 


LETTER    C XXXVI.  105 

the  same  impression  of  their  novelty,  as  if  I  were  a 
stranger  to  them.  In  more  instances  than  one,  per- 
sons have  referred  to  observations,  or  statements,  or 
facts  in  them,  which  had  wholly  vanished  from  my 
recollection,  and  which  struck  me  with  surprise.  I 
shall  leave  my  friends  in  England  with  poignant 
regret ;  for  no  man  could  have  kinder  friends  than  I 
have  found  here,  and  though  I  hope  to  return,  and, 
indeed,  must  return  from  the  Continent  by  the  way 
of  England,  yet,  a  few  months  often  produce  changes 
which  are  most  serious  and  painful.  But  I  will  not 
dwell  on  such  a  subject,  most  happy  in  having  en- 
joyed the  intimate  friendship  of  some  of  the  wisest 
heads  and  the  best  hearts  that  ever  dwelt  in  human 
form,  and  in  having  reciprocated  with  many  of  them 
a  warmth  and  purity  of  affection,  which,  if  any 
thing  will  survive  this  world,  will  continue  as  long 
as  the  heart  can  feel  any  thing. 

I  go  to  the  Continent  in  what  people,  I  suppose, 
would  call  good  spirits,  but  with  considerable  anxiety 
from  entering  into  a  condition  of  society,  totally 
different  from  that  to  which  I  have  been  accustomed, 
and  of  many  languages,  which  will  strike  upon  my 
ear  as  so  many  unintelligible  sounds.  I  feel  the 
strongest  curiosity  to  see  what  I  shall  see,  and  as  so 
many  thousands  have  been  and  returned  in  safety, 
under  circumstances  far  less  auspicious  then  my  own, 
I  give  myself  no  real  uneasiness,     Adieu. 

VOL.  5* 


106        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 


LETTER  CXXXVII. 

London,  18th  September,  1846. 
Mt  Dear  Sir: 

A is  certainly  very  much  in  my  debt,  so  far 

as  number  and  quantity  of  letters  go,  but  I  believe 
the  balance  of  our  account  is  the  other  way,  and  that 
for  that  matter  I  O  U. 

1  know  you  will  be  glad  to  hear  that  the  matter 
for  my  eighth  report  is  completed,  and  that  it  will 
soon  stand  up  alongside  of  the  others  which  have 
preceded  it,  and  will  not,  I  hope,  be  a  disgrace  to  its 
company.  I  suppose  the  farmers  will  be  disposed  to 
think  'he  two  last  numbers  better  than  any  of  the 
Oiuers,  because  more  directly  practical.  I  don't  think 
so  myself,  and  I  regret  that  it  can  have  no  attractions 
for  those  of  my  female  readers,  who  are  above  the 
rank  of  milk-maids.  The  farmers,  however,  have 
clearly  a  right  to  their  turn  ;  and  if  it  will  mend  the 
market  for  their  butter  and  cheese,  as  I  think  it  pos- 
sibly my  do,  it  will  be  doing  no  small  service. 

Soon  after  the  arrival  of  the  next  boat,  I  shall 
leave  for  the  Continent,  to  inquire  what  the  boors  of 
the  Low  Countries,  and  the  Swiss  peasants,  and  the 
vine-dressers  of  Tuscany,  and  the  silk-growers  of 
Italy,  have  to  say  to  me.  My  eyes,  you  may  be 
sure,  will  be  wide  open,  and  the  wider,  probably, 
because  my  mouth  will  be  shut.  I  wish  I  under- 
stood German,  Spanish,  Italian,  Dutch,  Swede,  Rus- 


LETTER    CXXXVII.  107 

sian,  and  all  other  languages  ;  but  an  old  man  like 
myself  must  wish  in  vain  to  understand  any  thing 
which  he  does  not  already  know ;  "  for  to  attempt 
to  learn  when  we  grow  old  is  like  getting  into  a  go- 
cart  and  trying  to  walk,  after  we  have  lost  the  use 
of  our  limbs," — so  says  an  oracle,  and  we  must  sub- 
mit to  the  common  lot.  How  I  wish  I  could  impart 
to  some  of  our  young  folks  the  conclusions  of  my 
experience,  —  they  would  want  no  other  stimulus  to 
sow  the  seed  while  it  is  as  yet  spring  with  them. 
The  simple  truth  is,  however,  that,  in  order  to  travel 
to  the  best  advantage,  a  man  ought  to  be  educated 
to  it,  as  much  as  to  any  other  profession  in  which  he 
would  excel.  Humboldt  seems  to  me  almost  the 
only  distinguished  traveller  who,  by  his  knowledge 
of  languages,  his  familiarity  with  the  whole  circle  of 
practical  science  and  art,  his  physical  powers,  and 
his  active  and  comprehensive  mind,  added  to  a  steady, 
flowing  enthusiasm,  which  is  strong  enough  con- 
stantly to  urge  him  forward,  but  not  so  capricious 
and  gusty  as  to  disturb  his  judgment,  has  been  par- 
ticularly fitted  for  a  general  traveller.  But  again  it 
may  be  said,  that  the  boundaries  of  science  are  be- 
coming daily  so  enlarged,  new  processes  in  science 
are  being  so  constantly  developed,  new  facts  are  ac- 
cumulated in  such  vast  masses,  and  new  sciences  are 
indeed  themselves  being  formed,  that  few  minds  can 
be  expected  to  embrace  any  thing  more  than  a  small 
portion  of  the  circle  ;  there  must  be  more  and  more 
a  division  of  labor  among  the  crowd  of  inquirers ; 
and  travellers,  who  hope  to  succeed  in  benefiting 
the  world  by  their  discoveries,  experience,  or  obser- 


108        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

vations,  must  limit  themselves  to  the  investigation 
of  some  specific  objects, 

I  dare  say  you  are,  as  ever,  plied  to  the  full  with 
some  industrious  pursuit.  I  hear  that  Elfin-glen  is 
looking  delightfully,  showing  great  taste  and  beauty. 
The  new  parts  of  London  are  built  with  most  extra- 
ordinary beauty  and  taste.  Some  of  the  suburbs  of 
London  present  a  succession  of  cottages,  which,  to 
my  view,  exhibit  the  perfection  of  rural  architecture. 
We,  I  think,  have  a  good  deal  to  learn  in  that  mat- 
ter. As  to  our  churches,  most  of  them  are  an  utter 
disgrace  to  a  state  of  society  calling  itself  improved, 
and  can  make  no  claims,  either  within  or  without,  to 
taste,  order,  or  elegance.  They  are  hardly  fit  for 
barns.  And  to  this  the  extreme  meanness  of  forming 
shops  under  them,  unless  some  object  of  charity  is  to 
be  promoted,  or  when  at  least  the  congregation  is  too 
poor  to  worship  anywhere,  excepting  it  be  in  the 
upper  story  of  a  grocery,  or  a  butcher's  stall,  or  of  a 
dry-goods  shop.  This  practice,  begun  in  an  evil 
hour,  cannot,  I  think,  be  too  soon  abandoned. 

We  have  been  full  of  Americans  this  summer,  but 
the  tide  seems  to  have  turned,  and  they  are  wending 
their  way  westward,  after,  I  suppose,  the  star  of  Em- 
pire—  idolaters  as  they  are.     Adieu. 


LETTER    CXXXVIII.  109 


LETTER  CXXXVIII. 

•♦ 

London,  3d  October,  1S16. 
My  Deah  R — -: 

I  AM  compelled  to  think  you  are  very  shy  of  your 
favors,  and  not  half  so  good  as  you  used  to  be.  I 
must  submit,  for  what  else  can  I  do  ? 

How  I  should  like  to  look  in  upon  you,  and  see 
what  you  are  at ;  surrounded,  I  dare  say,  with  half  a 
dozen  children,  spoiling  their  good  manners,  and 
teaching  them  all  sorts  of  tricks,  such  as  mutiny  and 
rebellion  against  their  parents,  &c.,  &c.,  &.c.  I 
should  like  to  have  known  what  you  would  have 
done  with  a  dozen  children  of  your  own.  I  don't 
know  whether  the  quiet  and  orderly  town  of  Salem 
could  have  contained  them.  It  would  have  ceased 
to  be  quiet  and  orderly. 

I  don't  know  what  to  write  that  would  interest 
you,  for  though  I  am  just  now  rather  more  interesting 
to  myself  than  I  like  to  be,  it  is  not  a  sort  of  interest 
that  I  would  wish  to  communicate  to  others. 

The  town  here  is  said  to  be  empty,  and  yet  there 
are  not  far  from  two  millions  of  people  remaining  in 
it,  and,  with  the  exception  of  the  small  locality  occu- 
pied by  the  elite^  the  streets  are  so  thronged  that 
you  cannot  get  along  without  a  good  deal  of  skill  in 
navigation,  and  without  "luffing, and  bearing  away, 
and  fending  off,"  the  whole  time.  Where  the  peo- 
ple all  come  from,  where   they  are  going,  what  they 


110        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

are  doing,  how  they  live,  are  sealed  mysteries  to  all 
human  sagacity.  There  is  poverty  enough,  that  is 
certain ;  and  there  is  wealth  beyond  all  the  dreams 
of  avarice  ;  there  is  idleness  in  the  greatest  abun- 
dance ;  and,  if  there  is  idleness,  ther-:  must  be  a  cor- 
'  responding  industry  and  labor ;  and  with  a  large 
portion,  pleasure  seems  to  be  the  sole  end  of  their 
being.  I  do  not  know  that  the  world  could  have 
been  arranged  better  than  it  is.  I  think  I  should 
have  contrived  it  somewhat  differently,  but  the  great 
result  might  not  have  been  as  good.  So  I'll  be  con- 
tent, and  thank  God  for  all  the  good  which  he  has 
permitted  me  to  enjoy,  so  much  more  than  I  had  any 
right  to  expect  —  as  to  claims,  I  don't  know  who 
dares  talk  of  them. 

The  situation  of  Ireland  at  present  wakens  every 
one's  sympathy.  It  is  a  curious  anomaly,  that  within 
sixteen  hours  of  the  centre  of  the  most  enormous 
wealth  ever  accumulated  in  one  spot,  and  the  highest 
degree  of  civilization,  and  of  what  people  call  Chris- 
tianity, and  under  the  same  government,  there  should 
be  about  four  millions  of  human  beings  in  the  lowest 
condition  of  destitution,  degradation,  and  wretched- 
ness, and  that  this  should  have  been  the  case  for  cen- 
turies. One  is  almost  inclined  to  think  there  must  be 
some  radical  difficulty,  in  their  own  constitution,  in 
the  way  of  amending  such  people,  and  so,  I  believe, 
there  is.  They  are,  in  the  first  place,  in  their  own 
country,  extremely  idle  and  disinclined  to  work,  and 
they  are  under  the  dominion  of  a  set  of  priests  who 
discourage  and  prevent  their  improvement  but  to  a 
certain  line  and  in  a  certain  way.     The  government 


LETTER    CXXXIX.  Ill 

are  evidently  at  a  great  loss  what  to  do,  and  scenes 
of  bloodshed  and  riot  have  already  commenced.  It 
will  be  a  fearful  winter  among  them.  They  must, 
however,  be  fed  and  kept  alive ;  and,  when  a  new 
leaf  is  turned  over  in  the  spring,  it  may  be  possible 
to  find  some  means  of  mitigation  of  their  evils ;  but 
a  thorough  cure  is  wholly  impossible  without  a  most 
thorough  revolution.  The  military  will  keep  that 
down  at  present.  Much  complaint,  and  with  much 
show  of  reason,  is  made  of  absentees ;  but  how  are 
landlords  to  live  among  them,  while  in  constant  dan- 
ger of  assassination,  from  which  it  seems  no  worth  of 
character,  no  exertions  of  philanthropy,  and  no  active 
measures  in  the  improvement  of  their  estates,  and  in 
bettering  the  condition  of  their  dependents,  afford 
any  protection.     Adieu. 


LETTER  CXXXIX. 

London,  17th  November,  1846. 
Mt  Dear  M : 

I  SCARCELY  know  how  to  write  to  you,  just  on  the 
eve  of  going  farther  from  you,  and  entering  upon  a 
new  enterprize  ;  but  I  find  if  I  abandon  myself  to 
my  feelings  I  could  not  write  at  all.  I  will  say  to 
you  as  I  have  said  to  all  my  most  intimate  and  warm- 
hearted English  friends,  I  shall  not  bid  one  of  you 
good-by,  but  only  look  forward  with  hope  to  another 
meeting.  This  hope,  my  dear  friend,  in  respect  to 
yourself  and  those  who  are  dear  to  us  in  common,  is, 
I  may  say,  the  cordial  which  supports  my  spiritual 


112  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

life,  and  without  which  I  should  be  a  mere  caput 
mortuum,  apiece  of  animated  machinery,  which  might 
go  until  the  work  had  run  down,  but  I  should  lose 
all  consciousness  of  myself  and  of  the  comfort  of 
existence  and  the  true  delight  of  living. 

18th  November,  Wednesday  Morning. 

I  had  written  so  far  when  I  was  called  away,  and 
now  must  finish  a  hurried  letter.  The  first  thing  I 
am  sure  you  will  want  to  know,  is  of  my  health.  I 
am  most  happy  to  say  that  I  feel  better  this  morning 
than  I  have  been  these  ten  weeks,  and  shall  leave  to- 
day for  France  in  better  spirits  than  I  could  possibly 
have  expected.  Ten  days  ago  I  was  almost  in  des- 
pair of  going  at  all.  A  week  ago  on  Sunday  I  was 
to  have  gone  to  Brighton  to  pass  the  day  with  Lady 
Byron  and  some  other  friends,  who  had  written  to 
me  repeatedly  to  come,  my  doctor  saying  it  would 
be  of  great  service  to  me.  I  should  have  gone  on 
Saturday,  but  was  too  ill,  and  when  the  carriage 
came  for  me  on  Sunday  morning,  so  far  from  being 
able  to  go,  I  was  not  able  even  to  leave  my  bed. 
Since  a  week,  however,  I  have  been  slowly,  but  con- 
stantly improving,  and  yesterday  I  walked  to  town 
with  some  difiiculty,  but  I  find  this  morning  without 
being  the  worse  for  it.  Mr.  and  Miss  Joy,  and  Mr. 
Bassett,  of  Boston,  are  to  meet  me  at  the  station  to- 
day at  12  M.,  and  we  go  on  to  Paris  together.  This 
is  a  most  agreeable  arrangement  to  me. 

It  is  impossible  for  me  to  say  what  I  feel  of  the 
kindness  of  my  English  friends.  Mrs.  Bailey,  Mrs. 
Teschemacher,  Mrs.  Young,  Mrs.  Chamberlain,  Mrs. 


LETTER    CXL.  113 

Preston,  and  their  husbands,  and  many  others,  have 
been  most  assiduous  in  their  attentions,  visiting  me, 
and  sending  and  bringing  me  fruit  and  any  delicacy 
which  they  deemed  of  service,  and  urging  me  to 
allow  them  to  get  any  thing  for  which  I  had  need. 

Lady said  she   would  come  at  once  and  take 

care  of  me,  if  she  could  be  of  any  service.  Lady 
also  wrote  me  as  kind  a  note  as  possible,  prof- 
fering her  services  to  come  and  stay  and  do  any  thing 
and  everything  in  her  power  for  me.  I  have  had, 
too,  a  kind  and  skilful  physician,  who  paid  me  every 
needful  attention,  staying  with  me,  in  two  instances, 
nearly  two  hours  each  time,  and  whose  bill,  contrary 
to  my  fears,  knowing  the  usual  habits  of  the  London 
physicians,  has  been,  I  may  say,  ridiculously  small, 
and  scarcely  more  than  enough  to  pay  for  the  medi- 
cine. Besides,  I  have  had  in  the  servant  one  of  the 
most  faithful,  assiduous,  and  kind  nurses  that  it  was 
possible  to  find.  For  all  these  blessings,  I  pray  God 
to  make  me  devoutly  thankful.  I  cannot  venture  to 
record  my  deep  impressions  of  His  kindness,  for  my 
whole  life  seems  to  have  been  only  one  uninterrupted 
series  of  mercies  and  benefactions.  My  heart  must  be 
harder  than  adamant  if  I  did  not  feel  them.     Adieu. 


LETTER  CXL. 

Paris,  Sunday  Evening,  November  29th,  1846. 
Mt  Dear  M : 

You  will  expect  an  account  of  my  movements  in 
detail,  and  it  is  my  greatest  pleasure  abroad  to  feel 


114         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

that  I  am  talking  with  you,  and  to  imagine  you  lis- 
tening with  the  interest  which  you  take  in  every 
thing  which  concerns  me.  I  left  London  a  week 
ago  last  Wednesday,  not  well,  but  hoping  to  be  bet- 
ter, which  hope  has  been  to  so  great  a  degree  real- 
ized, that  I  now  call  myself  well.  With  so  many 
blessings,  however,  as  are  left,  it  would  be  most  un- 
grateful in  me  to  complain  ;  and  if  the  kind  wishes 
and  attentions  of  my  English  friends  could  be  real- 
ized, I  should  enjoy  the  Spanish  benediction  of  living 
a  thousand  years.  God  bless  them  for  all  their  kind- 
ness and  love,  which  has  followed  me  even  here,  for 

on  my  arrival  I  found  an  affectionate  letter  from 

awaiting  my  coming,  and  other  friends  by  the  dozen 
have  promised  that,  on  their  part,  the  chain  between 
us  shall  be  kept  strong  and  bright. 

My  companions  have  been  most  agreeable  ;  but,  a 
Bostonian  myself,  I  cannot  help  being  amused,  as  I 
confess  I  have  been  for  years,  with  the  prejudices  of 
my  townsmen.  They  think  always  that  Boston  was 
made  in  the  morning,  while  the  materials  were  fresh, 
and  before  they  had  been  culled  for  any  other  places. 
It  takes  a  long  time  to  make  any  breach  in  this  wall 
of  prejudice,  and  with  them  every  thing  is  measured 
by  this  standard.  It  requires,  in  many  cases,  not  a 
little  time  to  satisfy  such  persons  that  other  countries 
have  their  advantages,  other  people  their  virtues,  and 
other  cities  their  beauties,  and  to  pick  our  way  out 
of  the  shell,  from  which,  at  best,  we  emerge  only 
half-fledged. 

We  left  London  at  one  o'clock  by  rail  for  Folke- 
stone, the  gentlefolks  in  the  first  class  carriages,  and 


LETTER    CXL.  115 

their  servant  and  your  humble  servant  in  the  second, 
though  we  were  placed  before  them,  that,  in  case  of 
an  explosion,  we  might  be  killed  first,  as  of  course 
our  lives  were  not  of  half  the  consequence  as  the 
lives  of  people  who  dress  in  purple  and  fine  linen  and 
fare  sumptuously  every  day.  There  were,  however, 
no  lives  lost,  and  no  explosion  excepting  that  of  the 
steam  whistle  and  an  occasional  explosion  of  good 
humor  among  the  passengers  who  were  my  compan- 
ions, and  who  did  not  feel  that  their  dignity  would 
be  compromitted  by  an  occasional  pleasantry,  amount- 
ing almost  to  a  joke,  which  is  as  far  as  any  one  ever 
goes  in  a  public  conveyance  in  England. 

Six  o'clock  brought  us  to  an  excellent  hotel  at 
Folkestone,  where  the  indiscriminate  talking  of 
French  and  English,  and  a  Restaurant  and  Cafe  in 
the  housCj  admonished  us  of  our  approximation  to  a 
foreign  regime.  The  Channel  between  England  and 
France,  owing  to  the  meeting  of  various  currents,  is 
seldom  passed,  ev^en  by  veteran  seamen,  without 
some  internal  experiences  of  the  most  disagreeable 
nature,  to  which  two  of  my  companions  looked  for- 
ward with  mingled  reminiscences  and  apprehensions, 
which  made  them  turn  a  little  pale  even  at  the  sight 
of  a  very  good  breakfast,  but  which  the  other,  a 
novice  in  the  case,  contemplated,  with  a  kind  of  bra- 
vado that  seemed  to  defy  the  elements,  and  but  for 
his  invariable  politeness,  would  have  cast  some  ridi- 
cule upon  the  timidity  of  weaker  minds.  But  poor 
man  !  his  time  was  to  come.  The  passage  was  three 
hours.  The  wind  blew  a  gale,  and  the  vessel  floated 
like  a  sea-bird  upon  the  bounding  waves.     The  boat 


116        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

was  crowded  with  passengers,  and  I  remained  almost 
alone  with  impunity  upon  the  deck,  to  the  envy  of 
my  companions.  The  company  fell  by  platoons. 
The  cabins  and  deck  were  strewed  with  the  suffer- 
ing and  the  semi-animate,  and  the  brave was 

among  the  first  to  show  the  white  feather  and  to  cry 
for  quarter.  Sea-sickness  humbles  all  pride,  levels 
all  dignities,  and  goes  far  to  settle  the  great  question, 
whether  a  man's  sensorium  is  not  in  his  stomach,  for 
it  seems  at  once  to  paralyze  all  faith,  and  hope,  and 
courage,  and  affection. 

We  reached  Bologne  at  two  o'clock,  and  the  half- 
dead  began  to  show  signs  of  life.     Poor came 

on  deck  looking  like  a  galvanized  corpse.  "  I  never," 
said  he,"  was  so  sick."  I  was  surprised  to  hear  him 
speak,  for  I  was  deliberating  whether  to  send  for  an 
undertaker,  or  a  Catholic  priest  to  lay  his  ghost :  and 
when  I  found  him  looking  for  his  passport,  I  could 
not  but  deem  it  wholly  unnecessary,  for  the  custom- 
house officers  could  never  think  of  stopping  such  an 
object,  especially  as,  according  to  the  old  philosophy, 
he  might  make  his  exit  through  a  key-hole. 

We  landed  amidst  a  file  of  soldiers  drawn  up  in 
line,  and  flanked  by  a  large  party  of  women  with 
neat  white  caps,  and  in  full  costume,  if  it  may  be 
called  full,  with  petticoats  scarcely  covering  the  knee, 
displaying  limbs  of  fair  proportion,  with  whole  stock- 
ings and  neat  shoes,  and  a  jabbering  of  voices  which 
can  only  be  rivalled  among  the  Katydids  and  the 
Katydidn'ts  of  Connecticut.  These  women  were  to 
carry  our  baggage  to  the  hotel  as  soon  as  it  had 
passed  the  usual  examination,  which  was  conducted 


LETTER    CXL.  •  117 

Strictly,  but  kindly  and  courteously.  I  should  have 
preferred  myself  to  have  given  them  the  money  and 
have  saved  them  the  trouble  ;  but  that  would  not  do, 
and  I  was  obliged  to  yield  the  point,  and  allow  these 
dames  to  travel  off  with  our  portmanteaus  and  carpet 
bags  upon  their  backs,  each  one  bearing  a  load  almost 
sufficient  for  a  horse.  The  streets  were  crowded 
with  people,  all  well  dressed,  all  evidently  well  fed  ; 
only  a  single  beggar,  and  that  a  cripple,  solicited 
alms  ;  and  not  a  ragged  person  or  a  vagabond  was  to 
be  seen  ;  in  these  respects  presenting  a  contrast  to 
the  country  we  had  left,  where,  in  London,  hunger, 
and  squalor,  and  drunkenness,  and  filth,  and  wretch- 
edness, crowd  upon  you  at  every  corner.  The  streets 
of  Bologne  were  as  quiet,  too,  in  the  evening,  as 
those  of  a  retired  country  village,  thou'gh  a  fair  was 
being  held  at  this  time  for  a  week  or  more,  differing 
much,  in  this  respect,  from  what  one  finds  in  Eng- 
land, in  towns  of  this  size.  The  hotel  was  clean, 
excellent,  and  reasonable,  and  the  next  morning  we 
determined  to  go  post  to  Paris,  a  mode  of  travelling 
for  four  persons,  not  much  more  expensive  than  the 
public  conveyance,  and  giving  us  the  opportunity  of 
travelling  only  by  day,  and  so  enjoying  the  view  of 
the  country,  which,  to  me,  wa^  of  much  importance, 
instead  of  making  the  greater  part  of  the  journey  in 
a  crowded  vehicle,  or  on  the  top  of  a  coach  through 
two  long  nights. 

The  calm,  with  our  sick  friend,  was  as  bad  as  the 
storm,  and  he  was  obliged  to  ride  outside.  Three  of 
us  occupied  the  interior,  making  about  forty  or  fifty 
miles  a  day.     The   time  passed  most  agreeably  in 


118         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

quiet  conversation,  and  the  constant  gratification  of 
our  curiosity  in  tiie  novel  objects  which  presented 
themselves,  until  we  reached  Amiens,  about  seventy- 
miles  from  Paris,  where  we  took  the  railroad.  The 
roads  were  good,  the  weather  not  unpleasant  ;  the 
country  cultivated  and  beautiful ;  the  manners  of  the 
people  courteous,  their  appearance  indicating  good 
living  and  contentment ;  and  the  journey  upon  the 
whole  most  agreeable.  The  government  furnishes 
the  post-horses  and  the  postilions ;  the  fixed  rate  of 
travelling  is  about  seven  miles  an  hour  ;  four  persons 
must  drive  with  four  horses,  and  the  price  to  be  paid 
is  determined  by  law,  and  always  open  to  examina- 
tion. The  harnesses  of  the  horses  are  of  the  most 
ordinary  description,  but  sufficient  for  the  purpose. 
In  this,  I  think  the  French  show  their  wisdom,  for 
as  the  government  own  the  harnesses  as  well  as  the 
horses,  it  would  not  be  difficult  to  foresee  what  would 
be  the  fate  of  the  harnesses  if  they  were  of  a  better 
description,  as  the  fate  of  public  property  entrusted 
to  persons  without  interest  in  it,  under  such  circum- 
stances, is  commonly  well  known.  The  railroad  on 
which  we  travelled  was  of  the  finest  description,  and 
when  the  arrangements  now  in  progress  are  carried 
out,  will  not  be  surpassed  by  any  thing  which  I  have 
seen,  for  the  convenience,  comfort,  and  security,  both 
of  person  and  baggage.  The  first  class  carriages  are 
fitted  up  with  as  much  elegance  as  a  lady's  boudoir, 
or  drawing-room,  and  the  second  class  carriages,  in 
which  I  rode,  were  lined,  and  stuffed,  and  glazed, 
and  cushioned,  and  curtained,  and  made  perfectly 
comfortable.     This  is  very  different  from  what  one 


LETTER    CXL.  119 

finds  in  England,  where  every  attention  is  paid  to 
the  comfort  of  the  higher  classes,  but  the  second  and 
third  strata  are  not  treated  with  any  extraordinary 
attention. 

We  reached  Paris  in  safety  at  five  o'clock,  and 
after  driving  through  many  streets  crowded  to  excess 
with  human  life,  and  with  people  of  every  condition, 
costume,  and  description,  moving  on  in  one  vast  tide, 
we  landed  our  friends  at  their  residence,  and  Mr. 

B and  myself  went  by  direction  to  the  Hotel  de 

Paris.  Here  the  only  rooms  we  could  have  were  in 
the  fifth  story,  and  I  had  to  ascend,  in  order  to  reach 
my  domicile,  one  hundred  and  eight  steps.  Alas ! 
for  my  infirmity.  The  rooms  were  well  furnished 
and  pleasant ;  they  were  comfortable  after  we  reach- 
ed them  ;  but  the  stairs !  the  stairs !  When  I  got 
tip,  I  thought  I  could  never  get  down  again,  and 
when  down  that  I  should  never  get  up  again.  The 
Parisians,  however,  do  not  regard  it,  and  persons 
take  rank  somewhat  according  to  the  story  in  which 
they  live.  I  could  not  stay  long  here, .but  availed 
myself  of  the  services  of  a  valet-de-place  to  find  other 
accommodations.  After  ascending  about  fifty  stair- 
cases as  high  as  that  which  I  had  left,  and  wholly 
discouraged  with  the  appearance  of  every  cheap 
apartment,  I  succeeded  at  last  in  getting  into  lodg- 
ings in  a  good  situation,  in  the  second  story,  without 
a  single  comfort  to  recommend  them.  I  console  ray- 
self  with  thinking  that  I  am  not  quite  so  badly  lodged 
as  the  state  prisoners,  or  the  paupers  in  the  Union 
Houses,  but  beyond  that  I  have  nothing  to  add. 
However,  they  are  not  expensive,  —  ten   dollars  a 


120  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

month  for  a  chamber  and  some  little  service,  I  find- 
ing my  own  food,  fuel  and  lights.  But  they  are 
recommended  by  the  fact  that  the  house  is  kept  by 
a  respectable  old  lady,  and  her  daughter, — an  accom- 
plished young  lady,  a  long  time  a  governess  in  Eng- 
land and  Scotland,  who  speaks  English  perfectly, 
and  who  teaches  French  with  more  skill  than  any 
person  I  have  met  with.  She  is  to  give  me  iessons 
daily,  and  promises  that  I  shall  speak  French  well  in 
a  month.  I  already  read  it  well.  I  thought  I  could 
speak  it ;  but  no  person  can  speak  it  who  has  not 
the  advantage  of  practice  with  persons  to  whom  it  is 
their  vernacular  tongue.  This  is  my  belief.  I  shall 
give  all  the  attention  I  possibly  can  to  t  he  language 
for  a  short  time,  as  I  find  it  of  immense  importance 
in  reference  to  my  objects.  I  am  promised  every 
attention  I  can  desire.  Mr.  Greene  invited  me  to  an 
elegant  ball  last  evening,  but  I  declined,  as  I  do  not 
mean  to  visit  in  France,  excepting  for  my  profes- 
sional purposes.  Mr.  Vattemare  and  Mr.  Sumner  are 
to  introduce  me  to-morrow  to  the  Minister  of  Agri- 
culture and  the  Department  of  JNational  Industry,  and 
several  gentlemen  interested  in  these  objects  have,  I 
understand,  expressed  a  wish  to  see  and  to  aid  me. 

I  cannot  even  begin  to  tell  you  about  Paris,  and  I 
am  afraid  I  cannot  now  write  another  letter.  In  the 
fine  arts,  in  all  matters  of  taste,  in  public  buildings 
and  monuments,  in  public  improvements  in  science, 
and  provisions  for  education,  in  manufactures  of  the 
most  delicate  kind,  and  the  mechanic  arts,  in  the 
beauty  and  abundance  of  its  markets,  in  its  streets, 
in  the  conveniences  of  life,  in  provisions  for  public 


LETTER   CXLI.  121 

amusement,  and  in  general  courtesy,  and  polite  man- 
ners, among  all  classes,  Paris  has  long  been  distin- 
guished. Paris  is  thronged  with  Americans.  My 
teacher  has  a  dozen  American  pupils.  My  love  to 
all.     God  protect  and  bless  you  all.     Yours  ever. 


LETTER  CXLI. 

Paris,  26tlx  December,  1846. 
My  Dear  M : 

You  have  already,  I  hope,  received  a  long  letter 
from  me,  dated  in  this  gay,  brilliant,  and  wonderful 
city.  I  have  now  the  happiness  to  assure  you,  that 
my  health,  though  imperfect,  I  pronounce  good  ; 
sound  health  and  youthful  vigor  it  would  be  as  idle 
for  me  to  look  for,  as  to  look  for  the  green  leaves  and 
the  smooth  bark  and  the  elasticity  of  a  youn^  tree 
in  a  decayed  old  trunk,  which,  though  still  erect,  and 
annually  putting  forth  a  show  of  vegetation,  has  been 
shaken  and  beaten  by  the  blasts  and  storms  of  many 
a  tempestuous  winter.  I  cannot  say,  however,  that 
it  is  any  consolation  to  me  to  see  daily,  that  if  the 
old  are  not  always  well  and  vigorous,  health  and 
vigor  are  not  always  the  portion  of  the  young ;  and 
even  the  most  abundant  wealth  and  the  greatest  lux- 
ury and  indulgence,  so  far  from  affording  a  perfect 
protection  against  the  common  ills  and  inconven- 
iences of  life  seem  to  render  their  possessors  and 
votaries  the  more  sensitive,  and  but  too  often  the 
more  complaining. 

VOL.    II.  6 


122         EUROPEAN  LIFK  AND  MANNERS. 

When  I  wrote  to  you,  my  lodgings  were  deplora- 
ably  bad  ;  since  that  time  I  have  made  a  change,  very 
much  for  the  better,  and  though  I  still  have  nearly  a 
hundred  stairs  to  get  into  my  Robinson  Crusoe  nest, 
yet,  when  I  do  get  there,  I  have,  what  few  of  the 
residents  of  Paris  can  boast  of,  an  open  space  to  look 
out  upon,  sunshine  when  the  sun  chooses  to  show 
his  face,  a  clean  room,  and  a  comfortable  bed. 

To  persons  who  have  plenty  of  money  and  can 
afford  an  establishment  of  their  own,  or  at  one  of  the 
principal  hotels,  Paris  must  be  as  comfortable  and 
agreeable  to  live  in  as  any  place  which  can  be  found. 
My  lodgings  are  perfectly  respectable,  of  course,  as  I 
should  certainly  go  into  no  other,  but  they  are  about 
the  third  class,  and  abound  in  inconveniences  and 
discomforts.  I  dine  on  Sundays  constantly  with 
some  friends  at  Meurice's.  I  dine  usually  once  a 
week  with  some  other  friends  at  the  hotel  Windsor. 
I  have  a  standing  invitation  to  dine,  en  famille,  as 
often  as  I  will,  with  another  friend,  who  lives  here 
most  elegantly;  but  I  have  never  availed  myself  of 
the  invitation,  though  I  have  dined  once  there  with 
a  large  party  of  gentlemen  at  a  splendid  dinner.  I 
have  dined  once  at  Mr.  Vattemare's,  who  is  exceed- 
ingly kind  and  attentive.  I  have  letters  to  Lord 
Normanby,  the  British  Ambassador,  to  Lady  Coote, 
to  M.  de  Tocqueville,  to  George  W.  Lafayette,  to 
several  of  the  literati,  and  to  members  of  the  Cham- 
ber of  Deputies ;  but  I  have  yet  delivered  none  of 
them,  and  still  hesitate,  certainly  until  my  French  is 
a  little  more  fluent.  I  do  not  mean  to  give  much 
time  to  visiting  beyond  what  will  conduce  to  my  ob" 


LETTER    CXLI.  123 

jects ;  yet  I  shall  be  desirous  of  seeing  some  persons 
of  distinction  here.  I  expect  to  be  at  the  presenta- 
tion at  court  the  first  week  in  January.  Most  of  the 
respectable  Americans  will  probably  be  introduced, 
and  as  I  can  go  in  a  plain  suit  of  black,  I  have  a 
curiosity  to  see  here  a  scene  which  is  said  to  be  most 
agreeable,  as  well  as  splendid.  If  I  go,  you  shall 
hear  all  about  it. 

The  weather  has  been  extremely  cold  and  frosty. 
The  people  here,  either  from  habit  or  necessity,  seem 
to  regard  the  cold  with  great  indifference  ;  and  when 
the  glass  has  been  below  freezing,  they  are  to  be 
seen,  the  women,  without  any  bonnets  or  cloaks,  sit- 
ting out  in  the  open  air,  in  the  parks,  to  sell  fruit  and 
cakes,  or  at  work  outside  of  their  shop  doors  in  the 
city.  I  do  not  know  what  they  are  made  of,  to 
endure  it.  But  fuel  here  is  so  expensive  that  there 
must  be  a  great  deal  of  suffering  among  the  poor. 
Wood  is  sold  generally  by  the  pound,  and  it  is  at  the 
rate  of  twenty-eight  dollars  or  more  per  cord.  There 
are,  however,  very  few  poor  to  be  seen  in  the  streets ; 
a  beggar  here,  compared  with  London,  is  a  great 
rarity,  and  a  vagabond  or  ragged  person,  I  might 
almost  say  I  have  not  seen  in  Paris.  The  people 
are  universally  well  dressed  and  clean,  the  women 
especially.  I  cannot  say  the  same  of  the  men, 
though  Mr.  Vattemare  says,  that  the  worst  looking 
men  about  the  town  are  not  Frenchmen,  but  foreign- 
ers, who  go  to  every  extreme,  I  believe  he  is  in  the 
main  right,  for  Paris  seems  to  collect  from  all  quar- 
ters of  the  globe ;  and  every  costume,  Turk,  Arab, 
Jew,  Chinese,  African,  Egyptian,  is  to  be  met  with 


124        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

in  the  streets.  In  going  from  England  into  France, 
one  is  soon  aware  that  he  has  left  the  country 
of  the  smooth  chins,  for  that  of  the  buflfaloes,  and 
the  slovenliness  of  the  habit,  as  well  as  the  hideous- 
ness  of  aspect  which  this  practice  of  wearing  the 
beard  all  over  the  face  produces,  are,  to  my  taste, 
though  satisfied  that  others  should  have  their  opinion 
in  this  and  every  other  matter,  perfectly  odious. 
The  habitual  and  exemplary  neatness  of  the  English 
opposes  it ;  but  the  precipitancy  of  the  Americans 
in  general,  to  run  into  every  extreme  of  fashion,  is 
proverbial,  and  they  are  often  found  outheroding 
Herod. 

You,  perhaps,  will  like  to  know  how  I  live.  I 
have  a  room  in  what  is  called  a  furnished  lodging 
house,  or  hotel  meuble,  in  what  is  here  called  the 
fourth,  but  with  us  would  pass  for  the  fifth  story. 
The  house  is  full  of  lodgers  below,  above,  and  around 
me,  but  I  know  only  one  of  them  even  by  sight,  and 
her  by  a  mere  accident,  as  she  is  an  English  woman, 
who,  with  her  husband,  has  lived  here  fourteen 
years,  and  we  had  to  call  upon  her  to  interpret  my 
English.  I  have  a  small  room  with  a  comfortable  lit- 
tle French  bed,  table,  chest  of  drawers,  &c.,  &-c. 
The  family  take  care  of  my  chamber  and  furnish  my 
bed,  and  my  chambermaid  is  a  large,  dirty  man,  who 
does  not  know  one  word  of  English.  I  buy  my 
own  candles,  fire-wood,  tea,  sugar,  and  chocolate, 
and  make  my  own  coffee  and  tea  in  my  room,  the 
family  furnishing  for  me  bread,  milk  and  butter.  I 
try  to  give  them  as  little  trouble  as  possible,  as  the 
distance  up  is  so  great,  and  I  therefore  boil  my  own 


LETTER    CXLI.  125 

tea-kettle  over  my  fire,  or  with  spirits  of  wine.  I 
pay  for  this  room  and  service  forty  franks,  or  about 
eight  dollars  a  month,  exclusive  of  fuel  and  lights, 
with  a  douceur  of  one  or  two  franks  a  week  to  the 
servant.  Every  article  here  is  dear,  dearer  than  even 
in  England.  Coffee  is  twenty-five  cents  a  pound ; 
the  best  of  chocolate,  about  five  franks,  or  nearly  a 
dollar  a  pound  ;  the  best  of  black  tea  about  eight 
franks,  or  one  dollar  and  twenty-eight  cents  a  pound. 
Bread  is  dear.  I  gave,  a  few  days  since,  three  cents 
apiece  for  some  very  thin  and  small  crackers,  for  a 
sick  child.  The  best  of  butter  is  forty  cents  a  pound. 
The  prices  of  meats  I  do  not  know,  but  vegetables 
and  fruit  are  quite  dear.  I  know  of  nothing  in  Paris 
which  is  cheap  excepting  omnibus-riding.  Yet  the 
aggregate  expense  of  living  in  Paris  is  less  than  in 
London. 

Yoiur  accout  of  the  loss  of  the  Atlantic  was  most 
afflictive.  To  be  forty-eight  hours  in  a  condition  of 
such  exposure,  suffering  from  cold,  and  liable  every 
moment  to  destruction,  is  as  dreadful  as  can  be.  It 
seems  to  have  been  a  year  of  calamities  edl  over  the 
world.  The  inundations  in  this  country,  by  which 
many  lives  were  lost,  many  villages  destroyed,  and 
extensive  tracts  of  fertile  country  laid  waste,  have 
occasioned  an  immense  amount  of  suffering. 

The  Mexican  war  I  hold  in  utter  abhorrence,  and 
on  the  part  of  the  United  States  perfectly  gratuitous, 
inhuman,  and  unjust.  I  wonder,  that  among  the 
respectable  people  of  New  England,  a  volunteer  can 
be  found. 

I  had  designedj  before  I  left  England,  to  have 


126        EUROPKAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

given  "you  an  account  of  a  travelling  party,  into 
whose  company  I  happened  accidentally  to  fall,  and 
whose  habits  and  dispositions  made  me  feel  constantly 
how  much  the  happiness  of  life,  and  the  enjoyment 
of  its  blessings,  depends  on  ourselves,  on  our  own 
dispositions,  and  the  point  of  view  from  which  we 
look  at  things  ;  so  that  the  foaming  cup  may  be  at 
once  rendered  stale  and  vapid,  and  bitterness  and 
poison  infused  into  waters  otherwise  pellucid,  health- 
ful, and  delicious.  We  were  journeying  in  a  part  of 
the  country  highly  picturesque  and  delightful,  and 
though  I  had  visited  many  of  these  scenes  on  a  for- 
mer occasion,  the  repetition  increased  their  interest, 
the  impressions  which  they  made  were  more  striking, 
and  my  estimation  of  their  beauty  and  grandeur 
exalted.  The  roads,  the  conveyances,  and  the  ac- 
commodations were  all  such  as  to  satisfy  any  reason- 
able mind.  But  the  party  with  whom  I  fell  in, 
though  educated  and  excellent  people,  and  of  sub- 
stantial virtues,  were  extremely  difficult  to  be  pleased, 
fastidious  and  fault-finding. 

Talleyrand  had  one  day  a  party  at  dinner ;  and  an 
English  gentleman  being  asked  to  what  he  would  be 
helped,  said  that  he  did  not  care ;  it  made  no  ditFer- 
ence  to  him  what  he  eat.  "  What  the  devil  did  you 
come  for,  then  ?"  said  Talleyrand ;  and,  to  tell  the 
truth,  I  was  quite  at  a  loss  to  know  what  these  peo- 
ple came  for.  They  were  "  wzsemJ/e,"  because  they 
could  not  get  ice  in  their  water  ;  and  because  the 
bread  was  too  new,  and  because  it  was  too  old  ;  and 
because  the  sun  shone,  and  because  it  did  not  shine  ; 
and  because  the  mountains  were  not  pointed  instead 


LETTER    CXLIl.  127 

of  rounded,  or  rounded  instead  of  being  pointed  ;  and 
lastly,  because  that  water  did  not  run  up  a  hill  instead 
of  running  down,  it  would,  in  that  case,  have  been  so 
much  more  convenient,  no  doubt,  for  the  salmon  to 
have  gone  up  the  rivers  to  spawn  ;  and  because  the 
sun  did  not  rise  in  the  west  instead  of  the  east,  as 
their  prospect,  as  they  were  travelling  westward, 
would  have  been  so  much  improved  on  looking  back. 
Good  Lord  deliver  me  from  all  fault-finders  with 
matters  which  cannot  be  helped  or  altered,  and  from 
all  that  luxury  and  abundance  which  seem  only  to 
make  the  heart  utterly  selfish,  and  quench  all  grateful 
perceptions  and  acknowledgment  of  that  divine  and 
infinite  beneficence  and  love  which  pours  itself  in  an 
unabated  flood  over  the  whole  of  this  beautiful  crea- 
tion.    Adieu. 


LETTER  CXLIL 

Paris,  27th  December,  1846. 
Mt  Dear  A : 

As  I  went  to  church  three  times  on  Friday,  Christ- 
mas day,  I  determined  to  give  this  day,  in  my  own 
chamber,  to  my  dear  friends  over  the  water.  I  think 
this  a  very  pious  use  of  Sunday ;  for  if  there  is  any 
thing  for  which  I  feel  that  I  have  cause  to  be  thank- 
ful to  God,  (and  his  blessings  and  mercies  are  with- 
out number,)  it  is  in  the  reasons  that  I  have  to  love 
you  all,  as  I  do,  with  an  interest  which  no  words  can 
express,  and  in  the  reasons  that  I  have  to  believe 


1^8  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

that  that  affection  is  reciprocated,  in  a  measure  equal 
to  what  I  deserve.  Christmas  day  was  a  great  day 
here.  To  say  that  the  streets  were  full  of  people 
would  be  nothing, — they  are  full  everyday,  to  a 
degree  which  I  hardly  could  think  of,  and  which,  in 
the  great  thoroughfares,  renders  it  absolutely  impos- 
sible to  get  along  without  being  continually  jostled 
and  jostling  other  people.  In  the  morning  I  went 
to  the  church  of  St.  Roch,  where  the  queen  and 
royal  family  attend  ;  not  the  king,  who,  I  believe, 
never  goes  to  church  outside  of  the  palace,  (I  suppose 
on  account  of  his  personal  safety.)  I  went  at  one 
o'clock  to  the  Oratoire,  a  Protestant  church,  to  hear 
a  distinguished  preacher,  and  I  went  at  three  o'clock 
to  the  Madeleine,  to  witness  the  splendid  service  to 
be  performed  there.  The  Oratoire,  which  was 
crowded,  is  a  Protestant  church  ;  there  was  nothing 
there  to  gratify  the  senses,  but  much  for  the  under- 
standing and  heart.  The  church  of  St.  Roch  and 
the  Madeleine  were  overflowing  ;  people  were  there, 
not  by  hundreds,  but  by  thousands.  I  have  not  a 
doubt  there  were  from  six  to  eight  thousand  in  each 
of  them.  The  music  in  St.  Roch,  on  such  occasions, 
is  the  best  that  can  be  procured,  both  vocal  and 
instrumental ;  the  organist  is  deemed  the  first  in 
Paris,  if  not  in  the  world  ,•  and  the  best  singers  from 
the  opera,  persons  of  the  richest  and  most  cultivated 
talent,  in  their  line,  lend  their  aid.  There  are  two 
organs  in  each  of  the  churches,  at  the  different  ends, 
— one  of  much  more  power  than  the  other,  —  one 
very  high  up,  in  a  lofty  gallery,  almost  touching  the 
roof,  so  that  the  sound  seems  to  come  from  above  ; 


LETTER    CXLII.  129 

the  other  on  the  floor,  at  the  farther  end  of  the 
church.  They  occasionally  respond  to  each  other, 
and  occasionally  in  concert  pour  out  a  volume  of 
sound  which  seems  to  make  the  pillars  and  arches  of 
the  church  tremble.  In  such  a  building,  men  and 
women  appear  very  like  children  ;  and  when,  in  the 
intervals  of  the  service,  every  thing  is  hushed  into 
perfect  silence,  you  hear  some  delightful  and  power- 
ful female  voices,  chanting  the  most  delicious  notes, 
with  the  full  bass  and  tenor  voices  joining  in  the 
chorus ;  the  effect  upon  a  sensitive  mind,  with  a  large 
endowment  of  tune,  and  especially  a  large  venera- 
tion, is  electrical ;  and  one  almost  dies  of  emotion. 
I  came  away  from  church  with  my  brain  burning, 
my  muscles  straitened,  and  every  nerve  in  the  highest 
degree  of  tension.  If  one  could  understand  the  sen- 
timents which  are  uttered,  and  if  they  correspond 
with  the  expression  given  to  them,  I  believe  that  a 
person  unaccustomed  to  the  service,  would  find  it 
difiicult  to  endure  the  excitement.  The  Church  of 
St.  Roch  is  venerable  for  its  antiquity,  and  interesting 
for  many  revolutionary  reminiscences,  and  associa- 
tions connected  with  it.  It  has  many  pictures  and 
statues,  which  delight  you  with  their  beauty  and 
genius ;  the  service  was  long  and  in  every  respect 
magnificent.  What  shall  I  say  of  the  Madeleine  ? 
I  do  not  know.  I  have  not  words  to  express  my 
admiration  of  the  beauty  and  splendor  of  the  scene 
which  I  witnessed  there.  This  is  a  modern  church, 
of  Grecian  architecture,  of  large  size,  of  exquisite 
proportions,  both  within  and  without  ;  admitted,  I 
believe,  for  its  beauty,  to  be  surpassed  by  few 
Vol.  11.  6* 


130  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

churches  in  the  world  :  and  its  interior  adorned  with 
an  elegance  and  taste,  which  it  was  intended  should 
be  unsurpassed  ;  and  so  far  as  my  conceptions  and 
limited  observation  have  yet  extended,  this  intention 
has  been  accomplished.  The  clear  sky,  in  a  winter's 
night,  is  transcendently  beautiful ;  the  ocean,  in  its 
placid  and  its  excited  state,  combines  innumerable 
forms  of  beauty.  The  earth,  when  spring  pours  its 
soft  and  odorous  breath  over  it,  and  you  see  it  rising 
from  the  death  of  winter,  in  its  mantle  of  green,  and. 
adorning  itself  with  flowers  of  countless  forms  and 
hues,  is  an  image  of  beauty  which  I  have  always 
gazed  upon  with  an  adoration  full  of  rapture  and  de- 
light ;  and  so  too  everywhere  God  has  poured  out  a 
flood  of  beauty,  like  jewels  out  of  the  horn  of  plenty, 
over  his  wide  creation.  These  are  not  objects  with 
whichHo  compare  it ;  but  in  all  the  forms  of  color,  posi- 
tion, light,  grace,  skill,  splendor,  and  expression,  which 
human  genius  and  taste  can  combine,  so  I  never 
look  for  any  thing  more  beautiful  than  the  church  of 
the  Madeleine  on  Christmas  afternoon.  I  thought 
the  music  was  as  fine  as  at  St.  Roch.  There  was 
no  light  admitted  from  without ;  and  the  numerous 
chandeliers  of  burnished  gold,  shedding  a  soft  light 
through  the  globes  of  ground  glass,  the  candles  burn- 
ing upon  the  altar,  the  many  small  altars  lighted  up 
at  the  sides  of  the  church  ;  the  pictures  of  consum- 
mate execution,  speaking  to  you  from  the  walls  ;  the 
beautiful  statues,  adorning  all  the  niches,  and  all 
decorated  with  a  profusion  of  flowers ;  the  magnifi- 
cent group  of  sculpture,  over  the  high  altar,  of  the 
Virgin  herself,  of  the  purest  white  marble,  guarded 


LETTER    CXLII.  131 

by  two  angels  of  extreme  grace  and  beauty  ;  the 
crowd  of  priests  and  acolytes,  in  their  robes  of  satin, 
and  gold,  and  linen,  and  lace,  and  chains  of  jewels, 
and  capes  of  ermine,  and  of  scarlet ;  the  processions 
of  torches  borne  by  children ;  the  carrying  of  the 
golden  cross,  in  front  of  the  altar  ;  the  elevation  of 
the  host,  and  the  charming  music  combined,  all  con- 
spired to  present  a  scene  of  most  extraordinary  and 
affecting  magnificence,  and  a  beauty  which  is  per- 
fectly indescribable.  I  am  no  Catholic,  but,  from 
any  thing  which  we  have  seen  in  our  country,  we 
can  form  no  just  conceptions  of  the  splendor  and 
beauty  of  their  ritual  here  ;  and  upon  persons  of  sus- 
ceptible minds,  who  understand  all  the  forms  of  their 
worship — all  of  which,  though  they  may  appear  so 
trivial  to  us,  still  have  a  specific  meaning  — and  who 
believe  in  its  doctrines,  and  have  been  educated  in 
the  church,  I  am  not  surprised  that  its  effect  should 
be  so  powerful ;  and  that  they  should  cling  to  their 
religion  with  indomitable  pertinacity.  But  this  I  am 
told,  is  nothing  to  what  I  shall  see  at  St.  Peter's,  if, 
in  my  pilgrimage,  I  ever  reach  there.  Time  will 
show.  I  counted  fifty  officiating  priests  at  the  alt£u^ 
at  one  time,  (including  the  children  with  torches, 
and  young  persons  bearing  the  censers  of  frankin- 
cense.) I  see  nothing  of  this,  nor  of  any  other  form 
of  worship,  in  the  New  Testament,  excepting  the 
Lord's  prayer.  But,  two  things  surprise  me ;  first, 
that  out  of  a  religion  so  simple  and  unadorned  eis 
that  of  Christ,  such  a  cumbrous,  expensive,  ceremo- 
nious, and  magnificent  establishment,  should  have 
grown  up.  The  second  is  of  a  higher  character ; 
and  when  I  think  that  an  humble  man  of  Galilee, 


13*8  EUBOPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

unaided  by  power,  or  wealth,  or  rank,  disdained  and 
attempted  to  be  crushed  by  them  all,  teaching  in  the 
most  simple  form  nothing  but  a  religion  of  justice, 
purity,  kindness,  and  universal  love,  should  have 
established  an  empire  in  the  world  so  extensive,  so 
enduring,  so  powerful  in  its  hold  upon  the  minds  and 
hearts  of  men ;  to  which  wealth  pours  out  its  most 
lavish  contributions,  rank  and  power  bow  down  to 
do  homage ;  and  genius  in  eloquence,  in  learning,  in 
poetry,  in  sculpture,  in  painting,  as  its  highest  honor 
generously  profters  its  treasures, — I  am  almost  com- 
pelled to  think  that  all  the  miracles  recorded  of  him, 
are  hardly  greater  than  that  which  even  this  history 
exhibits,  and  establishes  before  the  eyes  of  all,  at  the 
present  time. 

I  can't  tell  you,  my  dear  A ,  how  I  long  to  see 

you  all.  I  think  you  have  been  very  lazy  of  late, 
and  almost  negligent ;  but  I  love  you  too  well  to  find 
fault  with  you. 

My  present  intention  is,  to  send  you  some  little 
remembrance  to-morrow,  if  I  can  find  time.  Never 
was  a  city  so  full  of  every  thing  that  is  beautiful  : 
but  the  useful  as  well  as  elegant,  are  too  costly  for 
my  poverty ;  and  I  do  not  like  to  send  you  what  is 
frivolous  and  useless.  Do  not  be  disappointed,  there- 
fore, if  you  receive  nothing  but  a  little  book  of  the 
Monuments  of   Paris,  which  I   send    to    my  friend 

N ,  and  to  little  G a  pen-wiper,  which  was 

given  to  me  yesterday  by  a  kind  lady  ;  and  the  dog 

upon  which,  may  bark  at  G if  she  can  provoke 

him  to  it.  I  can  only  wish  that  I  might  be  in  his 
place.  In  that  case,  I  should  not  bark,  I  should  bite. 
Adieu. 


LETTER    CXLIII.  133 


LETTER  CXLIII. 

Paris,  27th  December,  184S. 
Mt  Dear  S : 

Sunday  in  Paris,  is  any  thing  but  Sunday,  to  a 
NeVir  England  man  ;  and  if  I  did  not  take  the  great- 
est pains,  I  should  lose  entirely  the  days  of  the  week. 
This  misfortune  happened  to  me  last  week  ;  and 
when  the  servant  in  the  morning,  told  me  it  was 
Samedi,  and  not  Vendredi,  I  was  almost  indignant, 
that  he  should  distrust  my  recollection,  and  could  not 
be  convinced  until  by  a  particular  reckoning,  count- 
ing my  fingers,  and  looking  at  an  old  newspaper,  the 
sad  truth  was  brought  to  my  mind,  that  I  had  lost  a 
day.  The  streets  are  as  full  of  people,  as  on  other 
days ;  the  shops  are  almost  universally  open,  espe- 
cially in  the  morning ;  commerce  and  traffic  go  on  ; 
the  masons  and  carpenters  ply  the  trowel  and. the 
hammer ;  and  at  night,  the  theatres  and  places  of 
amusement  are  all  open,  and  crowded.  I  never 
before  knew  the  value  of  a  New  England  Sunday ; 
1  do  not  mean  particularly  in  a  religious  view,  but  as 
a  pause  or  resting  place  in  the  common  business  of 
life,  when  we  can  stop  to  take  breath,  and  to  refresh 
ourselves ;  or,  otherwise,  one  would  think  the  mind 
would  become  like  the  hard  trodden  pavement  of  the 
street,  where  nothing  makes  an  impression,  all  is 
dry  and  barren,  with  no  signs  of  vegetation  or  of  life. 
But  one  can  hardly  say  the  Parisians  are  not  a  reli- 


134         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

gious  people.  I  never  saw  churches  so  full.  I  never 
saw  a  stronger  appearance  of  the  most  profound 
devotion,  or  its  services  performed  with  more  deco- 
rum and  respect.  Whether  their  religion  has  that 
influence  upon  their  morals,  which  it  should  have, 
remains  for  me  to  learn,  and  for  obvious  reasons,  it 
must  be  difficult  to  ascertain.  No  city  can  exhibit 
more  orderly  streets.  The  theatres  and  public  places 
are  closed  at  half- past  eleven,  and  people  go  home  as 
quietly  as  if  it  were  from  church.  I  have  not  seen 
a  drunken  man  in  the  streets,  and  in  four  weeks, 
only  two  persons  who  seemed  excited  by  liquor  ;  and 
in  the  theatres  there  is  not  the  slightest  irregularity 
in  the  boxes,  or  the  lobbies,  or  at  the  doors.  This 
certainly  speaks  well  for  public  decorum,  and  is  very 
different  from  the  state  of  things  in  London,  New 
York,  or  Philadelphia. 

Paris  is  full  of  shops,  crowded  with  goods  of  the 
most  splendid  description:  At  this  season,  when 
Christmas  and  New  Years'  presents  are  to  be  made, 
nothing  can  exceed  the  beauty  and  variety,  the  rich- 
ness, taste,  and  skill  displayed  in  the  articles  exhib- 
ited, whether  of  gold  or  silver,  paste  or  jewelry, 
china  or  glass,  clothing  or  comestibles,  articles  of 
use,  and  articles  of  mere  ornament  and  luxury.  I 
thought  the  displays  in  London  could  not  be  ex- 
ceeded, but  here  there  seem  to  be  many  more.  One 
thing  impresses  you  at  once,  that  the  French  are  a 
most  industrious  people ;  and  that  their  industry  is 
equalled  only  by  their  taste. 

My  good  friends  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Shimmin,  have  been 
telling  me  this  evening  that  they  were  last  night  at  a 


LETTEK    CXLIV.  135 

party,  given  by  the  Marchioness  De  Lavalette.  It 
was,  they  say,  extremely  brilliant,  as  the  house  is 
one  of  the  most  elegant  in  Paris.  There  was  no 
dancing ;  but  there  was  music,  and  the  entertain- 
ments consisted  of  the  exhibition  of  the  tricks  of  a 
conjuror,  who  was  employed  for  the  occasion,  and  a 
lottery  in  which  everybody  drew  a  prize,  some  little 
article  of  bijouterie.  There  were  no  gentlemen's 
tickets.  Society,  here,  is  said  to  be  on  the  most 
easy  footing,  but  I  do  not  expect  to  see  any  thing  of 
it,  as  I  shall  not,  I  think,  deliver  the  letters  which  I 
have  to  persons  who  would  introduce  me.  The 
winter  is  fast  running  away,  and  I  feel  that  life  is 
running  away  as  fast,  and  I  must  first  of  all  finish 
what  I  have  undertaken. 

Paris  abounds  with  Americans,  and  a  great  many 
reside  here  constantly.  However  easy  it  may  be  to 
read  French,  in  which  I  have  no  difficulty,  it  is  a 
very  different  matter  to  speak  it  intelligibly,  and  to 
understand  it,  as  spoken  by  the  French,  with  a 
rapidity,  and  with  elisions  which  it  is  extremely 
difficult  to  follow.  I  shall  not  do  much  about  it  — 
but  find  my  way  already  surprisingly  facilitated,  and 
hope  in  one  month  more  to  get  along  any  where 
with  ease. 


LETTER  CXLIV. 

Paris,  18th  January,  1847. 
My  Dear  Friend: 

How  is  it  possible  to  retain  a  consciousness  of  the 
rapid  progress  of  time  ?     I  have  been  almost  two 


136  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

months  in  Paris,  and  if  I  reckon  the  time  by  what  I 
have  accomplished,  I  fear  I  should  have  a  poor  ac- 
count to  render.  Some  find  a  consolation  in  think- 
ing that  other  people  do  no  more  than  themselves. 
If  other  people  do  no  more,  because  they  are  as  indo- 
lent as  oneself,  I  do  not  see  much  consolation  in 
that;  if  others  do  very  little  because  it  is  not  in 
human  nature  to  do  more,  it  is  some  relief  to  the 
conscience,  to  know  that  our  deficiencies  and  failings 
grow  out  of  an  inability  which  is  constitutional,  and 
to  a  degree,  insurmountable.  In  spite  of  all  my  for- 
getfulness,  the  new  year  has  begun,  and  one  twenty- 
fo^iirth  part  of  it  is  already  spent  ;  it  is  not  too  late, 
however,  and,  indeed,  I  did  this  in  full  season,  though 
I  said  nothing  about  it,  to  wish  you  and  yours  as 
much  of  good  and  happiness  as  can  be  crowded  into 
it.  What  this  good  shall  consist  in,  it  is  not  for  me 
to  say.  I  might  make  a  sad  mistake,  if  it  were  left 
for  me  to  prescribe.  I  might  make  a  sad  mistake,  if 
I  wished  that  you  might  be  richer  than  you  are ; 
that  you  might  have  uninterrupted  health  ;  that  there 
might  be  no  clouds  in  your  sky,  nor  even  a  breeze  to 
ruffle  the  still  waters  of  life.  I  must  be  safe,  how- 
ever, in  wishing  you  as  much  of  wisdom  and  discre- 
tion, as  much  of  goodness  and  piety  as  you  can  pos- 
sibly acquire,  by  that  help,  without  which,  we  should 
all  of  us  fail  of  any.  You  have  begun  well  —  go  on, 
and  may  every  day  record  new  triumphs  in  self-gov- 
ernment, and  new  acquisitions  in  substantial  virtue. 
In  wishing  you  this,  do  not  understand  me  to  imply 
any  strong  perceptible  want.  But  who,  compara- 
tively, has  attained  any  thing  ?  and  whose  acquisi- 


LETTER    CXLir.  137 

tions  are  any  thing  more  than  the  tottering  steps  of 
infancy  ?  There  is  another  good  I  will  wish  you  — 
a  certain  good  ;  infallible,  and  without  any  possible 
abatement ;  that  which  you  yourself  prefer  to  every 
thing  else,  and  that  is,  an  increase  of  the  power  of 
doing  good  and  of  making  others  happy.  Next  to 
our  own  personal  improvement,  which  is,  in  fact, 
only  a  powerful  means  to  the  same  end,  be7iejice7ice, 
in  its  broadest  and  best  sense,  is  the  highest  end  of 
life,  and  combines  more  of  substantial  enjoyment  and 
happiness,  than  any  other  source  of  good.  If  I  may 
say  it  without  irreverence,  it  seems  to  constitute  the 
happiness  of  the  Creator  himself;  for  though  there 
may  be,  and  are,  many  things  in  nature  and  in  Provi- 
dence, which  our  imperfect  vision  prevents  our  inter- 
preting and  explaining,  and  which,  sometimes,  would 
seem  inconsistent  with  unmixed  benevolence,  yet, 
in  the  great  mass,  they  are  exceptions  which  are 
scarcely  to  be  thought  of,  in  comparison  with  the 
decided,  universal,  most  abundant,  and  unceasing 
provision  which  is  made  and  multiplied  in  every 
conceivable  form,  for  the  happiness  of  his  creatures. 

I  meant  this,  my  dear  friend,  for  a  letter,  but  I  find 
I  have  been  giving  you  one  of  my  old  sermons.  Ah, 
habit !  habit !  after  more  than  half  a  century,  who 
can  shake  off  its  chains.  But  it  must  go.  I  have  no 
time  to  write  another,  and  it  is  not  at  all  certain  that 
if  I  set  the  machine  again  in  motion,  it  would  not  at 
once  get  into  the  old  track. 

I  hope  your  residence  in  Devonshire  was  of  sub- 
stantial service  to  my  good  friend,  Mr.  B .     You 

must  tell  me  all  about  it.     If  yoii  do  not,  I  don't 


138  EUROPEAN     LIFE     AiND    MANNERS. 

know  who  will.     I  wrote  a  long  letter  to  Mrs.  T , 

who  made  a  great  promise  of  what  she  would  do, 
and  who  thinks  there  never  was  such  a  true,  hones, 
punctual  people,  as  the  English ;    but    not    a   word 

from  her.     I  wrote  a  long  letter  to  one  Mrs,  E 

p J  whom  I  always  held  up  as  a  model  of  fidel- 
ity. But  not  a  word  —  '•  frailty,  thy  name  is  wo- 
man." I  have  written  two  long  letters  to  that  saint 
in  College  Terrace,  and  she  gave  me  a  letter  with 
two  blank  pages,  which  was  only  enough  to  quicken 
the  appetite,  and  make  me  ravenous.  I  have  written 
several  others,  and  I  have  a  pile  of  promises  as  large 
as  a  common  hay-stack,  which  seem  to  be  worth 
about  as  much  as  the  returned  and  disfigured  notes 
of  the  Bank  of  England.  I  should  like  to  know 
what  is  the  matter ;  whether  the  Oregon  question  is 
opened  again,  and  whether  my  English  friends  — 
friends  I  will  still  call  them,  for  I  should  make  away 
with  myself  if  I  had  not  confidence  enough  left  to  do 
that,  —  will  ever  have  the  presumption  again  to  talk 
about  American  repudiation.  I  believe  the  whole  of 
it  is  "  out  of  sight,  out  of  mind,"  and  I  only  wish  I 
had  the  power  to  appear  some  one  of  these  nights  in 
a  white  sheet  and  night-cap  at  the  side  of  their  beds, 
and  tell  them  what  they  must  expect,  if  they  do  not 
keep  their  word ;  I  would  frighten  them,  I  warrant 
you.  If  1  had  only  been  so  fortunate  as  to  have  got 
any  thing  like  a  promise,  from  that  pattern  of  truth 

and  exactness,  Mrs. ,  she  would  have  kept  her 

word,  I   know.      Now,  Mrs.  C A B , 

remember  that  you  are  in  the  same  condemnation. 
In  point  of  number,  you  are  in  my  debt;  but  I  sup- 


LETTER    CXLIV.  139 

pose  you  reckon  by  quality,  and  consider  one  of  your 
letters  as  worth  half  a  dozen  of  mine.  Well,  I  agree 
to  this  entirely ;  but,  rich  as  you  are,  and  poor  as  I 
am,  you  need  not  be  so  stingy  and  exacting.  I  only 
wish  I  had  been  young  enough,  and  handsome 
enough,  and  agreeable  enough,  to  have  conciliated 
some  one  of  those  charming  girls  at  Hampstead,  the 

N s,  for  a  correspondent ;    for  an  intelligent  and 

gay  young  girl  is  in  such  cases  worth  a  dozen  old 

women   like    Mrs.   Y ,  and  Mrs.  P -,  and  I 

won't  say  who. 

In  sober  truth,  and  as  my  dying  speech,  I  cannot 
tell  you  how  I  long  to  see  you  all,  and  how  much  I 
love  you  all.  There  was  but  one  thing  wanting  to 
make  my  intimate  society  in  England  an  earthly 
heaven  to  me,  and  that  was,  the  presence  of  some 
dear  objects  over  the  water,  whom  I  wish  that  you 
would  know.  Alas,  the  chain  of  the  domestic  circle, 
which  I  left  unbroken,  has  been  snapt  asunder,  and 
a  link  has  dropped  out.  My  last  letters  inform  me 
of  the  death  of  a  grand-child,  as  dear  to  me  as  an  own 
child  ;  a  promising  and  amiable  youth  of  about  nine- 
teen ;  his  death  was  quite  a  surprise  to  me.  I  had 
been  aware  that  he  had  for  some  months  been  labor- 
ing under  a  disease  usually  deemed  incurable ;  but 
it  was  hoped  that  the  vigor  of  youth  would  surmount 
the  power  of  his  malady ;  heaven  has  ordered  other- 
wise. The  whole  of  human  duty,  in  such  cases,  is 
comprehended  in  one  word  —  submit,  submit.  We 
may  add,  submit  with  entire  resignation,  because  it 
is  Heaven's  appointment  —  submit  with  confidence, 
for  God's  will  must  be  unerring  —  submit  with  hope, 


140  EUROPEAiN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

for  what  have  we  not  received,  and  what  may  we 
not  expect  from  his  kindness  and  love  ? 

It  would  be  idle  for  me  to  attempt  to  give  you  my 
impressions  of  Paris,  in  a  letter.  You  shall  have 
them  in  another  form,  if  my  life  is  spared.  Gaiety 
seems  the  order  of  the  day.  I  was  presented  at 
Court,  ten  days  since,  in  simple  black  ;  and  oa 
Wednesday  last,  attended  a  ball  at  the  palace.  It  is 
reported  that  there  were  eight  thousand  people  pres- 
ent. I  think  there  must  have  been  more  than  four 
thousand.  It  was  got  up  with  great  taste  and  ele- 
gance, splendor  and  magnificence  ;  and  went  off  in 
an  admirable  and  unexceptionable  manner.  I  was 
likewise  at  a  party  at  Lord  Normanby's,  the  British 
Ambassador,  which,  though  on  a  comparatively  small 
scale,  was  equally  remarkable  for  its  splendor.  The 
taste  of  the  Parisians  in  all  the  elegancies  of  life,  is 
superlative ;  and  in  courtesy,  they  are  unrivalled. 
Whether  they  have  more  joints  than  other  people,  I 
shall  leave  for  anatomists  to  determine  ;  they  cer- 
tainly have  more  suppleness,  and  there  is  a  style  of 
address  with  the  children,  and  even  the  humblest 
persons  you  meet  with  in  the  street,  that  is  attrac- 
tive and  often  charming.  The  fate  of  a  man  who  is 
not  made  of  cast  iron,  and  with  even  a  tolerable  share 
of  good  humor,  who  goes  into  the  shops  attended  by 
the  grisettes,  is  sealed.  He  must  buy ;  his  purse- 
strings  become  untied  of  themselves.  The  industry 
and  economy  of  the  French  are  acknowledged. 
They  have  the  credit  9f  insincerity.  I  have  not  put 
it  to  any  strong  test ;  but  in  this  matter,  they  seem 
to  me  upon  a  par  with  the  rest  of  the  world,  my  own 
dear  friends  always  excepted. 


LETTER    CXLV.  141 

Now  you  shall  have  breath.     Say  every  thing  that 

is  kind  and  respectful  for  me,  to  all  the  B 's,  and 

all  the  C 's,  and  all  the    Y 's,  and  all  the 

P 's,  and  to  the  good  and  excellent  Doctor  Hut- 
ton,  a  man  among  men.  Kiss  the  girls  for  me,  when 
they  come  home  from  school  —  I  mean  the  little 
ones,  of  course,  I  should  not  dare  aim  any  higher 
—  I  am  proud,  you  know,  and   therefore  do  not  say, 

pray  write  to  me  Mrs.  B ;  but  my  address  is 

care  of  Messrs.  Green  &  Co.,  Bankers,  Paris.  Now 
do  as  you  please.  You  know  how  glad  I  should  be 
to  hear  from  you  ;  but,  after  the  obstinacy,  or  neglect, 
displayed  the  other  side  of  the  channel,  I  am  deter- 
mined to  have  it  out  —  if  I  can.     Adieu. 


LETTER  CXLV. 

TO    A    FRIEND    UNDER    BEREAVEMENT. 

Paris,  29th  January,  1847. 
My  Dear  A : 

You  and  your  dear  family  have  scarcely  been  out 

of  my  mind  since  the  receipt  of 's  painful  letter. 

You  may  be  assured  that  neither  length  of  absence, 
nor  distance  of  place,  nor  the  excitements  and  novel- 
ties of  this  vast,  busy,  active,  and  crowded  city, 
which  seems  like  the  heart  of  a  large  animal,  where 
the  pulsations  are  felt  in  their  greatest  power,  can  at 
all  abstract  my  affections  and  interests  from  those 
objects,  which  have,  in  truth,  constituted  to  me  the 


142        EUROPEAN  LITE  AND  MANNERS. 

great  charm  and  the  chief  vahie  of  life.  Time  has 
served  only  to  strengthen  and  cement  these  attach- 
ments, and  to  multiply  these  sympathies,  in  every 
thing  that  concerns  you  and  yours ;  your  afflictions 
are  my  afflictions,  and  I  weep  with  you  over  the 
removal  of  that  dear  child,  who  has  been  so  many 
years  to  us  all  an  object  of  waurm  affection,  of  well- 
founded  and  increasing  esteem,  and  of  delightful 
hope  and  confidence.  He  has  been  taken  from  you 
in  the  morning  of  life,  when  the  labors  of  spring  were 
giving  the  grateful  promise  of  harvest,  and  when, 
under  an  improvement  of  mind  and  character  strongly 
marked,  you  were  anticipating  a  career  of  usefulness 
and  honor,  a  compensation  for  your  anxieties  and 
iabors,  and  the  gratification  of  your  parental  affections 
and  your  best  hopes.  God's  will  be  done  !  Under 
the  mysterious  dispensations  of  Divine  Providence, 
which  so  often  defeat  and  disappoint  all  human  cal- 
culations, and  which,  to  us,  are  as  uncontrollable  as 
they  are  inscrutable,  our  whole  duty  seems  to  be 
comprehended  in  one  word  —  submit  — be  resigned  ; 
it  is  the  will  of  God  —  a  decree,  not  dictated  by 
caprice,  not  the  result  of  accident,  not  a  blind  fatal- 
ity, but  only  another  name  for  the  highest  possible 
measure  of  kindness  and  benevolence,  under  the 
guidance  of  the  highest  possible  wisdom,  incapable 
alike  of  increase  or  of  error.  If  it  pleases  God  to 
take  from  us  the  dear  children  whom  he  gives  us,  it 
is  because  he  deems  it  best  for  them  and  for  us  that 
they  should  be  removed  ;  and  in  the  delightful  assur- 
ance that  "  all  live  unto  God,"  that,  in  fact,  in  his 
sight,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  death,  as  it  appears  to 


LETTER    CXLr.  143 

US,  let  us  not  have  a  doubt,  that,  as  here,  in  their 
beautiful  affections  and  opening  and  ripening  virtues, 
they  bore  about  them  continually  the  evidences  of 
his  kindness  and  complacency,  so,  though  removed 
out  of  the  reach  of  our  senses,  they  are  still,  and 
always  will  remain,  the  objects  of  his  unchanging 
and  unchangeable  love,  in  a  condition  of  being  most 
favorable  to  the  ripening  of  that  fruit,  of  which  here 
we  saw  only  the  swelling  buds  and  the  expanding 
blossoms. 

When  I  think  of  you  all  —  when  I  feel  how  long 
I  have  been,  and  how  far  I  am  removed  from  you  — 
when,  in  imagination,  as  I  often  do,  and,  since  this 
painful  intelligence,  more  often  than  I  ever  have 
done,  I  transfer  myself  into  the  midst  of  you,  and 
remember  with  what  affection  your  heart  has  always 
clung  to  me,  — - 1  feel  how  impossible  it  is  to  say 
what  I  would  —  ray  head  grows  dizzy  — I  write  by 
feeling,  scarcely  by  sight  —  and  I  have  laid  down 
my  pen  half  a  dozen  times  in  despair.  If  possession 
and  experience  had  taught  you  nothing  of  the 
strength  of  parental  aflfection,  yet  the  two  losses,  to 
which  you  have  been  called,  have  left  you  nothing 
farther  to  learn  upon  this  subject.  I  will  ask  merely 
to  be  judged  by  your  own  heart,  —  and  you  will 
only  do  me  justice,  if  you  give  me  credit  for  that 
sympathy  and  affection  for  you,  which  you  have 
found  in  yourself  for  those  whom  God  has  cast  upon 
your  love. 

I  think  I  may  say  that  the  most  interesting  visit  I 
have  made,  since  I  came  this  side  of  the  water,  I 
made  on  Saturday  last,  to  Pere  La  Chaise.     I  have 


144         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

waited  until  this  time  for  good  weather  to  go  there  ; 
perhaps  the  intelligence  from  home  made  it  more 
interesting ;    but  the  place   and  all   its  associations 

and  circumstances  quite  overpowered  me.     C , 

G ,  M ,   that  celestial    vision    so   constantly 

present    to    my   imagination,    sweet    little     M 

M ,  whom  I  carried  in  my  arms  to  her  grave, 

my  mother,  your  dear  mother's  mother,  and  other 
friends  —  alas!  too  dearly  loved!  —  were  with  me, 
hovering  about  me,  their  spirits  communing  with  my 
spirit,  and  it  seemed  to  me  almost  that,  if  I  stretched 
out  my  arm,  I  could  touch  them.  On  one  of  the 
stones  was  the  simple  inscription,  "  To  my  mother  ;" 
on  another,  "  To  a  dear  child  ;"  on  another —  "  To 
a  beloved  parent  "  —  were  these  words,  "  You  loved 
us  on  earth:  continue  to  love  us  in  Heaven."  Many 
of  the  graves,  or  monuments,  were  decorated  with 
wreaths  of  a  flower  commonly  called  with  us  ever- 
lasting ;  on  others  fresh  flowers  had  been  recently 
placed;  over  many  of  the  graves  were  little  chapels, 
beautifully  decorated  and  large  enough  to  contain 
seats  for  one,  two,  or  three  persons,  where  it  is  evi- 
dent hours  and  days  are  often  spent,  shut  out  from 
observation,  in  affectionate  communion  with  the  de- 
parted ;  on  some  of  the  graves,  over  which  there  was 
a  sculptured  head  of  a  deceeised  parent,  there  were 
sometimes,  at  the  base,  several  smaller  images  of 
children,  with  clasped  hands  and  uplifted  eyes,  in 
the  most  expressive  altitude  of  affectionate  grief.  I 
never  was  in  a  place  so  beautiful  for  its  taste,  and  so 
full  of  the  most  touching  sentiment.  It  appeared  to 
me  a  sort  of  Mount  of  Transfiguration.     Every  thing 


LETTER    CXLV.  145 

indicated  the  strong  impression  and  conviction,  that 
the  departed  are  still  conscious  of  what  is  passing  on 
earth,  and  that  the  living  may  still  keep  up  with 
them  an  intercourse  of  pure  affection  and  interest. 
Why  should  it  not  be  so  ?  If  there  is  nothing  to 
prove  it,  there  is  certainly  nothing  to  disprove  it  ; 
there  is  nothing  in  the  belief  irrational  or  unnatural, 
and  I  love  to  cling  to  it  as  a  charming  consolation. 
I  went  afterwards  into  the  chapel,  and  there,  as  in 
many  Catholic  churches,  you  find  a  person  burning 
candles  to  the  dead.  The  devotees,  who  visit  the 
church,  give  a  small  amount  of  money  —  perhaps  a 
few  sous  —  that  so  many  candles  may  be  lighted  in 
memory  of  their  departed  friends.  I  have  often  re- 
garded the  practice  with  intense  interest.  I  am  glad 
of  any  circumstance,  which  contributes  to  keep  up 
the  remembrance  of  the  departed.     I  am  no  Catholic 

—  perhaps  (e-w  persons  are  more  removed  from  it  ; 
but  I  could  not  resist  the  inclination  to  have  a  few 
candles  lighted,  in  mute  respect  and  affection  for  those 
dear  objects  which  were  then  hovering  about  me. 

So,  my  dear  A ,  I  wish  to  live.     I  wish  to  live 

as  though  they  were  still  alive  and  near  me,  —  that, 
though  no  longer  the  objects  of  my  sense,  I  may  yet 
regard  them  as  objects  of  my  affection  and  confidence 

—  absent,  but  yet  present, — dead,  but  yet  alive.  Let 
us  cherish  this  beautiful  sentiment,  associated  with 
all  the  delightful  thoughts  of  their  elevated  and  im- 
proved nature  and  existence,  and  the  precious  hope  — 
precious  beyond  all  measure  —  that  we  shall  again  be 
united  with  them,  where  sin,  and  error,  disease,  suffer- 
ing, and  death  can  never  come.     Adieu. 

VOL.    II.  7 


146  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 


LETTER  CXLVI. 

Paris,  29th  January,  1847- 
Mt  Deab  M : 

I  BELIEVE  the  last  steamer  was  the  first  instance  in 
which  I  have  failed  of  a  letter  from  yon ;  bnt  after 
receiving  the  afflictive  intelligence  communicated  in 

J 's  kind  letter,  I  could  not  have  expected  you  to 

write ;  your  hands  and  heart  may  have  been  more 
than  full,  and  I  could  only  be  thankful  that  you  had 
the  strength  and  courage  to  perform  the  painful  duties 
which  devolved  upon  you.  When  I  consider  in 
how  many  such  trying  scenes  you  have  been  com- 
pelled to  bear  a  part,  and  how  often  you  have  been 
called  to  stand  by  the  bedside  of  the  sick,  the  dying, 
and  the  dead;  how  many  painful  duties  you  have 
been  required  to  perform,  and  how  bravely,  in  spite 
of  your  feeble  frame  and  imperfect  health,  you  have 
gone  through  them,  I  often  think  that  Heaven  sent 
you  upon  earth  on  a  mission  of  mercy  and  consola- 
tion, and  that  it  is  the  privilege  and  happiness  of  but 
few  persons  to  say  they  have  performed  their  duty 
so  well. 

I  have  written  to  A as  fully  as  I  had  strength 

to  do.  No  mother,  I  believe,  was  ever  more  affec- 
tionate than  she.     C was  her  first   born ;    and 

from  the  accounts  which  I  received,  and  from  his 
letters  to  me,  which  are  admirably  written,  she  must 
have  had  every  confidence  in  his  good  conduct  and 


LETTER    CXLVI.  147 

character.  His  death,  1  confess,  took  me  by  sur- 
prise. I  knew  the  ordinary  dangers  of  his  complaint, 
but  I  hoped  the  vigor  and  elasticity  of  his  youthful 
constitution  would  have  enabled  him  to  surmount  it. 
Heaven  has  ordered  otherwise,  and  it  must  be  a  great 
consolation  to  his  parents  that  he  died  at  home,  and 
that  all  that  medical  skill  could  do,  was  done,  and  no 
alleviation  was  omitted  which  affection  and  kindness 
could  render.  Sickness  and  death  at  sea,  or  sickness 
and  death  in  a  foreign  country  come  armed  with 
double  pain;  and  of  all  the  medicine  that  was  ever 
administered  to  the  sick  and  suffering,  I  know  nothing 
more  soothing  and  precious  than  that  kindness  which 
rises  above  every  trial  and  labor,  however  painful 
and  exhausting,  and  makes  a  sick  chamber  radiant 
with  Heaven's  goodness  and  love.  The  removal  of 
the  young,  when  the  faculties  are  scarcely  unfolded 
and  the  business  of  life  is  hardly  begun,  is  among 
those  mysterious  dispensations  of  an  unsearchable 
Providence,  whose  solution  we  must  wait  for  with 
all  the  patience  and  hope  which  we  are  able  to  exer- 
cise. It  is  difficult  to  find  topics  of  adequate  conso- 
lation. The  uses  of  death  and  the  appointment  of 
death,  I  cannot  have  a  doubt,  are  altogether  beneficent. , 
My  creed  resolves  itself  into  a  very  simple  propo- 
sition —  God  is  wise  and  good.  He  is  as  wise  and 
good  as  wise  and  good  can  be,  and  under  his  gov- 
ernment and  providence  I  feel  a  perfect  security. 
Whatever  appearances  may  present  themselves  to  my 
limited  and  imperfect  observation,  I  have  no  doubt 
that  the  final  result  will  be  all  that  the  best  mind 
could  desire. 


148  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

I  feel  an  intense  and  almost  a  morbid  curiosity 
and  impatience  to  know  what  this  result  is  to  be.  Of 
a  future  life,  of  the  renewal  of  our  existence,  I  can 
scarcely  be  said  to  entertain  a  doubt  ;  that  is  to  say, 
I  believe  it  with  all  the  force  of  assent,  which,  I 
think,  a  reflecting  mind  is  able  to  give  to  a  subject 
resting  upon  presumptive  evidence,  and  not  upon 
absolute  demonstration.  I  believe  in  Jesus  Christ, 
in  his  authority  to  teach,  and  in  his  having  actually 
taught  the  certainty  of  a  future  life  and  the  immor^ 
tality  of  man.  His  revelation,  however,  stops  short 
of  almost  every  thing  beyond  the  simple  facts  of  a 
renewed  existence  and  a  moral  retribution.  Of  the 
place,  nature,  and  qualifications  of  this  existence  we 
have  no  instructions.  What  so  many  men  of  vivid 
imaginations  and  overweening  self-conceit  pretend  to 
know  and  to  say  about  it,  passes  with  me  for  mere 
verbiage.  I  believe  it,  in  the  next  place,  because, 
otherwise,  life  appears  to  me  a  perfectly  unfinished 
plan,  and  human  existence  not  a  cipher  merely,  but 
a  blot  upon  the  Creator's  works.  I  cannot  look  upon 
the  human  being  with  all  the  beautiful  endowments 
of  mind  which  pertain  to  him,  and  all  the  high  moral 
attributes  which  so  elevate  his  nature,  and  all  the 
charming  affections,  sentiments,  and  hopes,  which 
seem  to  stamp  him  as  divine.  I  cannot  look  upon 
such  a  being,  advancing  continually  in  intellectual 
and  moral  attainments,  rising  by  self-discipline  above 
every  thing  sensual  and  worldly,  and  in  the  elevation 
and  expansion  of  his  views  and  purposes  breathing  a 
far  purer  atmosphere  than  this  low  world  alFords.  I 
cannot,  I  say,  look  upon  such  a  being  as  destined 


LETTER    CXLVI.  149 

only  for  a  region  of  existence  where  his  advances  are 
continually  restricted,  and  where  soon  his  prayers 
must  be  arrested,  and  all  his  attainments,  noble  as 
they  may  be,  must  come  to  naught,  and  be  scattered 
like  the  gilded  and  burnished  clouds,  which  are 
scarcely  seen,  and  their  outlines  hardly  defined,  before 
the  wind  sweeps  them  away  forever. 

As  I  rely,  then,  most  heartily  upon  the  renewal  of 
human  existence  beyond  the  grave,  (indeed,  I  am 
strongly  inclined  to  believe  that  there  is  no  interrup- 
tion,) I  am  quite  willing  to  leave ;  more  than  that,  I 
am  most  happy  in  believing  that  it  is  wholly  left  to 
a  wise  and  benevolent  Creator,  to  make  that  exist- 
ence what  His  wisdom  and  benevolence  may  prompt, 
and  all  that  my  best  wishes  could  desire.  There  I 
leave  the  subject ;  and  my  continual  prayer  to  God 
is,  that  for  the  short  time  which  is  left  to  me,  my 
mind  may  retain  that  calm  acquiescence,  L  may  say 
more,  that  consoling  and  joyful  trust  in  all  his  ap- 
pointments which  his  grace  has  already  given  me, 
and  enable  me  to  meet,  as  in  the  course  of  nature 
they  must  come,  my  own  death  and  the  deaths  of 
those  who  are  as  dear  to  me  as  life,  with  a  perfect 
resignation  to  his  will. 

I  am  looking  forward  with  much  solicitude  for  the 
next  arrival  from  the  United  States,  because  I  am  not 

without  anxiety  for  your  health  and  A 's  health, 

after  all  that  you  have  had  to  afflict  you.  Thank 
God,  my  own  health  has,  I  think',  within  the  last 
fortnight,  greatly  improved.  I  have  suffered  lately 
somewhat  from  pains  in  my  breast  and  sides,  but 
these    have    been    so    many   years,    whenever   any 


150         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

increased  anxiety  or  labor  comes  over  me,  so  hab- 
itual, that  I  hardly  know  myself  without  them. 
Yours  ever. 


LETTER  CXLVII. 

Paris,  31st  January,  1847. 
My  Dear  Sir: 

I  AM  obliged  by  your  brief  note  by  Mr.  D .     I 

have  not  gone  much  into  society  in  Paris.  It  is  full 
of  Americans,  many  of  whom  I  have  seen,  —  but  I 
mean  French  society.  I  have  not  delivered  many 
letters  which  I  have,  fearing  that  if  I  once  got  into 
the  whirl,  I  must  do  it  at  a  sacrifice  of  time,  which  I 
could  ill  aflford.  I  have  found  it  indispensable  to 
give  much  time  to  the  study  of  the  language.  I 
have  acquired  a  facility  in  comprehending  it,  and  a 
sufficient  facility  in  speaking  to  make  myself  almost 
everywhere  understood.  Some  allowance  must  be 
made,  I  am  aware,  for  the  extraordinary  politeness  of 
the  French  people,  who  at  once  put  their  hands  to 
the  wheel,  if  they  perceive  its  motion  impeded,  and 
who  seem  to  have  a  sort  of  intuitive  anticipation  of 
what  you  design  to  say ;  and,  after  helping  you 
through  your  difficulties,  reply  impromptu.  I  do  not 
pretend  to  say  that  such  courtesy  belongs  exclusively 
to  the  French,  but  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  the 
Anglo-Saxons  would  not  be,  in  a  similar  case,  as 
civil  to  them. 

We  make  a  great  boast  of  Yankee  ingenuity,  which 
may  do  very  well  on  our  side  of  the  water.      We 


LETTER    CXLVII. 


151 


have  done  a  great  many  clever  things,  and  made  a 
great  many  useful  and  ingenious  inventions.  I  will 
admit,  that,  all  circumstances  considered,  we  have 
our  full  share  of  mechanical  skill ;  but  we  are  very 
green.  The  perfection  to  which  the  arts  are  carried 
here  is  most  remarkable,  and  the  shops  and  places  of 
art  and  manufacture  exhibit  a  variety,  a  skill,  a  taste, 
an  adaptation,  and  a  finish,  which  are  marvellous. 
The  French  have,  for  a  long  time,  had  a  most  extra- 
dinary  reputation  for  their  engineering  skill,  and 
very  great  attention  is  paid,  in  places  of  education,  to 
their  mathematical,  and  what  may,  in  the  strictest 
sense  of  the  term,  be  called  their  practical  education  ; 
they  seem  to  be  taught  nothing  which  they  are  not 
taught  at  the  same  time  to  apply.  Terrier's  discov- 
ery of  a  new  planet  redounds  in  the  highest  degree 
to  the  honor  of  their  science.  It  really  appears  to 
me  one  of  the  greatest  efforts  of  the  human  mind, 
that  he,  from  an'abstract  calculation  of  the  forces  of 
the  heavenly  bodies,  should£determine,  by  the  most 
profound  study,  that  the  balance  of  power,  if  so  it 
may  be  termed,  among  the  planets,  which  compose 
our  system,  required  the  existence  of  another  planet, 
in  a  certain. position  and  relation  ;  and,  having  deter- 
termined  this,  that  he  should  actually  find  it,  in  this 
position  and  relation,  seems  to  me  one  of  the  most 
magnificent,  I  may  say  sublime  triumphs  which  human 
genius  and  science  have  yet  achieved.  I  find  it 
difficult  to  bring  my  own  mind  duly  to  estimate  its 
grandeur. 

I  wish  to  say  much  to  you  about  the  political  con- 
dition  of  things   on  this  side   of  the  water.      The 


152  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

papers,  however,  keep  you  fully  apprized  of  every 
thing  known  to  the  public.  In  Ireland  England  seems 
to  me  to  have  a  mill-stone  about  her  neck,  which  she 
cannot  throw  off,  and  which  she  must  find  it  difficult 
to  carry.  The  condition  of  things  in  this  country, 
and,  indeed,  in  many  other  countries  on  the  Conti- 
nent, in  respect  to  food,  is  extremely  afflictive,  I 
cannot  say  alarming.  In  some  of  the  provinces  of 
France  the  authorities  are  set  at  defiance,  and  every 
thing  lawless,  outrageous,  and  hostile  to  the  public 
peace  in  Ireland,  finds  a  perfect  counterpart  here.  If 
it  were  any  other  general  calamity  excepting  starva- 
tion in  Ireland,  there  would  be  an  open  rebellion, 
and  the  people  could  not  be  kept  down,  but  as  it  is, 
there  is  no  immediate  danger  of  that ;  the  state  of 
the  stomach  has  a  very  material  influence  upon  the 
courage  and  turbulent  spirits  of  a  man  —  that  is,  when 
it  reaches  the  confines  of  starvation  —  and  thousands 
and  thousands,  whom  otherwise  it  might  have  been 
difficult  to  restrain,  are  perfectly  passive  and  helpless 
through  inanition.  It  is  quite  idle,  in  my  mind,  with 
any  degree  of  confidence,  to  predict  what  will  be  j 
and  the  breaking  out  of  a  general  war  would  at  once 
entirely  change  the  relation  of  things  ;  but  every  cir- 
cumstance in  the  polical  condition  of  society,  indi- 
cates a  necessity  of  some  change  in  the  tenure  of 
property,  so  that  the  laboring  classes  shall  not  be,  as 
in  many  cases  they  are,  shut  out  from  the  possibility 
of  procuring  a  subsistence  by  their  own  labor. 

The  French  have  adopted  here  a  most  politic  ar- 
rangement in  regard  to  the  supply  of  bread  to  the 
poor.     They  do  not  limit  its  price,  nor  order  it  to  be 


■  in  LETTER   CXLVIII.  153 

given  away,  but  they  issue,  from  the  mairies  and 
public  offices,  to  the  poor  who  apply,  tickets,  which 
enable  them  to  obtain,  at  the  bakers'  shops,  bread,  at 
the  former,  or  at  reasonable  prices ;  and  the  govern- 
ment themselves  make  good  to  the  bakers,  in  these 
cases,  the  difference  between  the  prices  at  which  the 
poor,  by  their  tickets,  receive  bread,  and  the  current 
prices  of  the  article  at  that  time  in  the  markets  — 
which,  of  course,  bears  its  usual  relation  to  the  price 
of  wheat  or  other  bread  grains. 


LETTER  CXLVIII. 

Paris,  1st  February,  1847. 
My  Dea.k  S : 

I  HAVE  determined,  instead  of  postponing  the  pleas- 
ure to  the  next  boat,  to  write  at  this  time.  In  com- 
mon with,  I  believe,  more  than  ninety-nine  hun- 
dredths of  mankind,  I  have  had  to  lament,  through 
life,  the  postponement  to  an  uncertain  future  that 
which  might  be  done  at  the  present ;  and  also,  that 
future  never  comes.  In  this  case,  for  once,  I  alter 
my  practice  ;  and  if  this  letter  finds  you  as  well  and 
as  happy  as  I  wish  you  to  be,  you  would  have  noth- 
ing more  to  ask. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  condense  in  one  letter, 
or  in  fifty,  all  I  might  wish  to  say  to  you  about 
Paris ;  but  something  you  will  expect  to  hear ;  and 
you  will,  I  hope,  wait  patiently  for  what  may  come 
hereafter.     Paris  is,  perhaps,  all  things  considered,  a 

TOL.    II.  7* 


164         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

more  elegant  city  than  London,  It  is  not  so  clean  a 
city  ;  for,  in  this  respect,  London  is  preeminent,  and 
is  even  cleaner  than  Boston.  But  in  good  weather, 
Paris  is  a  clean  city  ;  though  in  rain  and  wet,  the 
mud  is  abundant,  adhesive,  and  almost  intolerable. 
There  is  an  arrangement,  however,  in  Paris,  which 
is  a  great  public  convenience,  and  is  not  to  be  found 
in  London.  There  is  scarcely  a  corner  where  you 
cannot  find  a  man  standing  ready,  for  four  sous  or 
cents,  to  apply  a  brush  to  your  clothes,  or  to  give 
a  gloss  to  your  shoes,  in  which  you  can  almost  see 
your  own  reflection  ;  and  some  of  the  shops  for  this 
purpose  are  absolutely  luxurious:  the  walls  are  hung 
with  mirrors,  and  while  you  sit  upon  velvet  couches 
the  newspaper  of  the  day  is  brought  to  you  to  read. 
There  is  another  thing  remarkable  in  regard  to  the 
French  people.  1  do  not  know  how  1  had  got  the 
notion  that  they  were  far  from  neat  in  many  of  their 
habits.  I  confess  there  are  some  nuisances  allowed 
in  the  streets  which  are  wholly  indescribable,  and 
seem  a  perfect  anomaly  in  that  measure  of  refine- 
ment of  manners,  to  which  it  must  be  acknowledged 
they  have  attained,  and  in  which  they  seemed  to  have 
surpassed  all  other  people ;  but,  with  these  extraor- 
dinary exceptions,  I  should  pronounce  them  a  very 
neat  and  tidy  people.  It  is  impossible  to  walk  half 
an  hour,  I  had  almost  said,  in  any  part  of  London, 
without  encountering  objects  of  squalid  wretched- 
ness, raggedness,  and  semi-nakedness,  which  are  most 
pitiable  and  offensive ;  but  this  is  not  to  the  case  in 
Paris,  or  in  any  part  of  France  which  I  have  yet 
seen,  in  a  journey  of  two  hundred  miles.     A  ragged 


LETTER    CXLVIII.  165 

person  is  not  to  be  met  with,  and  most  of  the  people 
are  well  dressed ;  though  in  the  lower  classes,  evi- 
dently, with  the  greatest  regard  to  economy.  The 
shops  are  almost  universally  attended  by  women,  and 
even  in  those  crowded  and  glittering  with  the  most 
beautiful  objects  of  art  and  taste,  the  neatness  of 
their  dress,  and  the  elegant  courtesy  of  their  man- 
ners, render  them  most  pleasing  objects.  I  know  I 
am  not  singular  in  this  impression,  and  with  the  ex- 
ception of  those  persons,  in  whom  what  is  called  the 
milk  of  human  kindness,  if  they  ever  had  any,  is  be- 
come entirely  acid,  if  it  were  not  so  originally,  this 
is  the  universal  impression  upon  strangers,  young 
and  old. 

Since  you  last  heard  from  me,  I  have  had  the 
honor  of  a  presentation  at  court ;  and  since  that,  of 
attending  a  magniiSicent  ball,  given  by  the  queen,  as 
it  is  said,  to  seven  thousand  persons.  It  is  not  diffi- 
cult for  a  respectable  foreigner,  if  his  minister  will 
introduce  him,  to  be  presented  to  their  majesties. 
His  name  is  previously  sent  in,  and  if  there  is  no  ob- 
jection, he  attends,  and  is  introduced  by  the  ambas- 
sador ;  the  ladies  on  one  evening,  the  gentlemen  on 
another.  In  the  English  court,  the  queen  retains 
her  position,  and  the  persons  presented  approach  and 
fall  upon  one  knee,  but  here  there  is  no  kneeling  • 
the  parties  to  be  introduced  are  arranged  in  long 
lines,  on  each  side  of  the  immense  halls,  and  the 
king,  followed  by  the  queen  and  princes,  and  prin- 
cesses, is  introduced  to  every  individual  by  name, 
his  or  her  name  being  announced  by  the  lord  or  lady 
in  waiting.     The  king  and  queen  make  a  point,  as 


156        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

far  as  possible,  of  speaking  to  each  person.     To  the 

lady  who  stood  near  me,  Mrs.  S ,  of  New  York, 

he  said,  "  Were  you  not  afraid  to  make  the  passage 
in  the  steamer  ?  "  He  asked  me  from  what  part  of 
the  country  I  came,  and  said  he  was  happy  to  see 
the  Americans.  I  told  him  we  were  all  interested 
and  happy  in  the  prosperity  of  the  French.  Yes, 
he  said,  he  rejoiced  that  the  two  countries  were 
united  in  friendship  and  good  will,  and  hoped  that 
the  union  would  be  perpetual.  You  see  by  this, 
what  a  parcel  of  small  loose  change  he  must  carry  in 
his  pocket,  to  be  able  to  give  something  to  every 
one.  The  queen  was  equally  gracious,  but  I  do  not 
recollect  her  remarks.  The  princes  and  princesses 
passed  on  without  speaking,  and  in  general,  with  a 
simple  inclination  of  the  head.  After  the  gentlemen 
were  presented  in  this  form,  their  majesties  retired 
to  the  throne  room^  and  forming  a  sort  of  semi-circle 
with  the  princes  and  princesses,  the  gentlemen  passed 
before  them  and  made  their  congees.  This  ended 
the  presentation.     I  went  the  first  evening  with  Mrs. 

and  Miss ,  of  New   York,  by  Mr.  S 's 

desire,  he  being  indisposed ;  and  I  went  the  second 
evening  with  the  gentlemen,  when  there  were  no 
ladies  to  be  presented.  I  am  near  the  end  of  my 
paper,  therefore  must  reserve  the  account  of  the  ball 
for  a  future  letter.  The  handsomest  lady  at  the  pre- 
sentation,   whom    1   saw,    was   an   American,    Mrs. 

R ,  of  Philadelphia. 

.  r  Remember,  my  dear  S ,  that  you  have  my  con- 
stant and  warm  affection,  and  that  no  one  more 
desires  your  happiness.     Adieu.    ,,.-;.      .  :,  .         m 


LETTE&   CXLIX.  157 


LETTER  CXLIX. 


TO    LADY    S ,    LONDON. 


Paris,  8th  February,  1847. 
Mt  Deak  Lady  S : 

Sometime  ago,  I  saw  a  very  extraordinary  motto 
upon  a  seal  — as,  "  Who  the  de'il  can  this  be  from  ?" 
now  I  could  not  possibly  be  guilty  of  the  rudeness  of 
supposing  that  any  such  expression  could  ever  enter 
your  imagination,  much  less  escape  your  lips  ;  yet, 
leaving  out  the  proper  name  of  a  very  distinguished 
personage  with  whom  I  know  you  have  no  acquaint- 
ance, excepting  in  the  Litany,  I  cannot  help  thinking 
that  an  expression  of  strong  surprise  may  escape  you, 
when  you  break  the  seal  of  this  letter.  But  pray, 
what  do  you  think  I  am  made  of?  Do  you  think  I 
have  no  mind,  and  no  memory,  and  no  heart,  and 
that  a  day  passes  when  I  do  not  remember  your 
kindness,  and  how  much  I  enjoyed,  and  how  happy 
I  always  was  at  your  house  ;  and  imagine  myself 
again  making  one  of  the  delightful  circle  which  I 
often  met  at  your  table,  and  around  your  hospitable 
fire.  Do  not  think  any  such  thing,  and  do  not,  good 
and  kind  lady,  as  you  are,  do  me  any  such  injustice. 
Believe  me,  that  the  kindness  of  yourself,  and  Sir 
Francis,  and  your  family,  will  live  in  my  mind  as 
long  as  any  thing  remains,  and  retain  its  greenness 
and  freshness,  when  every  thing  outside  is  sear  and 
withered. 


158  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

"Well,  Mr.  Colman,  how  do  you  like  Paris?" 
Very  much,  my  lady,  I  assure  you.  "Do  you  like 
it  as  well  as  Loudon  ?"  Now  do  not  ask  me  any 
such  question  as  that ;  "  comparisons  are  odious ;" 
I  like  England  ;  I  like  London  ;  I  like  English  man- 
ners and  English  improvements;  I  like  my  English 
friends,  some  of  the  best  friends  a  man  ever  had,  and 
having  every  claim  upon  my  love  and  respect.  I  do 
not  see  that  I  need  like  Paris  any  the  less,  for  all 
that.  Now  I'll  tell  you  what  I  think  of  Paris,  but  I 
know  you  will  not  ask  me  whether  I  like  it  better 
than  London ;  and,  even  if  a  suggestion  of  this  sort 
should  have  waked  up  the  combativeness  of  my  dear 
friend,  Marianne,  the  forensic  philosopher,  and  she 
should  insist  upon  making  an  argument  about  it,  I 
shall  be  wise  for  once,  and  not  answer  her  a  word. 

I  should  say  at  once,  you  know  all  about  Paris,  if 
it  were  not,  that,  to  my  surprise,  I  find  that  very  few 
Londoners  know  any  thing  of  Paris,  excepting  by 
hearsay,  and  very  few  Parisians  know  any  thing  in 
any  other  way  about  London.  I  met,  last  night,  a 
highly  educated  and  intelligent  French  gentleman, 
born,  and  living  in  Paris,  who  told  me  he  had  never 
been  in  London,  and  another,  and  another,  though 
the  two  great  capitals  of  the  world,  are  only  about 
twelve  or  sixteen  hours  apart.  This  comes  partly,  I 
suppose,  from  a  difference  in  language,  which  con- 
stitutes a  much  more  serious  impediment  than  one 
would,  at  first,  suppose ;  and  secondly,  and  chiefly, 
from  the  horrible  wars  and  bloody  rivalries,  which, 
for  so  many  years  divided  the  two  nations  by  a  wall 
of  prejudice  and  hatred,  and  almost  by  a  channel  of 


LETTER    CXLIX.  159 

blood.  I  do  not  know  that  even  a  century  of  peace 
would  obliterate  all  these  prejudices,  which  seem  to 
me  as  strong  on  one  side  as  the  other.  They  are 
equally  unworthy,  and  I  may  almost  say,  wicked,  on 
both  sides ;  and  a  curse,  I  think,  may  be  expected  to 
follow  any  English  politician,  any  political  firebrand, 
who  would  wish  again  to  set  them  in  a  blaze,  and 
open  another  eruption  upon  the  world,  with  all  its 
burning  streams  of  lava,  to  spread  ruin,  and  desola- 
tion, and  misery,  and  death  ;  and  all  this,  profes- 
sedly, on  account  of  the  marriage  of  a  French  boy 
and  a  Spanish  girl  ;  as  if,  compared  with  peace,  it 
were  of  any  sort  of  consequence  to  the  world,  if  the 
whole  race  of  legitimates,  and  kings  and  queens, 
were  swept  from  the  earth.  But  stay,  I  must  mind 
what  I  say  ;  you  are  a  subject  —  I  am  a  republican. 

Paris  is  full  of  all  that  is  beautiful  ;  works  of  taste 
of  the  highest  order ;  specimens  of  the  fine  arts, 
which  are  above  all  praise  ;  palaces  and  churches  and 
halls  of  unrivalled  magnificence  ;  monuments,  whose 
grandeur  makes  the  head  dizzy  ;  and  works  of  genius 
and  skill,  which  are  transcendant,  and  destined  to 
claim  the  enthusiastic  admiration  of  the  world  for 
centuries  to  come.  Things  are  done  here  upon  a 
scale  truly  grand.  There  are  said  to  be  seven  miles 
of  pictures  at  Versailles,  and  the  Louvre  is  a  perfect 
wilderness  of  works  of  art,  the  gems  and  jewels  of 
genius.  The  library  of  the  city,  open  to  every  body, 
not  to  look  at,  merely,  but  to  read,  at  your  pleasure, 
contains  more  than  a  million  of  volumes,  and  this 
only  one  among  twenty  large  libraries,  all  of  them 
accessible  to  the  public.     Twenty  different  courses 


160  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

of  lectures,  by  some  of  the  most  eminent  scholars  in 
the  world,  are  now  given  daily,  and  on  the  most 
interesting  subjects  of  science,  open  without  fee,  to 
all  who  will  avail  themselves  of  them.  At  a  ball  at 
the  palace,  a  few  nights  since,  seven  thousand  five 
hundred  invitations  were  given  out,  and  a  propor- 
tionate number  of  persons  attended;  an  elegant  sup- 
per, oysters,  game,  poultry,  &-c.,  to  say  nothing  of 
pastry  and  confectionary,  and  an  unlimited  supply  of 
champagne,  as  well  as  other  wines  ;  at  which  the 
guests  were  all  seated,  the  ladies  first,  and  afterward 
the  gentlemen.  I  left,  about  two  o'clock,  and  the 
order  and  arrangements  were  as  easy  and  comforta- 
ble as  at  Twenty-seven,  Bedford  Place,  at  a  soiree. 
Nothing  could  be  more  elegant,  and  no  guest  was 
overlooked  or  neglected,  and  there  was  not  in  any 
part,  the  slightest  crowding  or  confusion.  But  I  will 
not  anticipate  what  I  mean  at  a  future  time  to  tell 
you,  in  another  form.  I  hope,  my  dear  lady,  your- 
self or  some  of  the  firm  will  do  me  the  kindness  to 
let  me  know  how  you  all  are,  this  winter.  Here,  the 
weather  has  been  agreeable  enough,  though  some- 
times severely  cold,  especially  with  brick  floors,  and 
wood  sold  by  the  pound,  at  about  the  same  price  as 
mahogany. 

I  beg  to  be  particularly  remembered  to  your  father, 
and  to  Sir  Francis ;  and  if  the  young  ladies  will 
suffer  such  an  old  fellow  as  I  am,  to  send  my  love  to 
them,  tell  them  they  have  as  much  as  this  letter  will 
carry.  After  all,  it  may  be  much  safer  than  if  it 
came  from  a  young  fellow.  Let  me  assure  you,  my 
dear  lady,  of  my  most  sincere  respect.     Yours  truly. 


LETTER   CL.  161 


LETTER  CL. 

Paris,  28th  February,  1847. 
My  Dear  M : 

I  HAD  the  pleasure  of  your  two  letters,  one  of  De- 
cember, and  the  other  of  January  29th.  They  pre- 
sented an  affecting  contrast,  such  as  is  too  often 
witnessed  in  life  to  create  surprise.     I  am  extremely 

anxious  to  hear  again  from  you,  as  A 's  state  of 

health  gives  me  great  concern.  The  loss  of  her  dear 
son,  and  her  sickness  at  thejsame  time,  must  have 
taxed  her  mental  as  well  as  physical  strength  to  the 
utmost.  I  am  too  happy  in  thinking  she  has  in  this 
season  of  trial  the  consolation  of  your  presence. 

I  am  happy  to  say  to  you  that  I  consider  myself 
quite  as  well  as  I  have  reason  to  expect  to  be.  When 
I  look  at  the  many  examples  of  destitution  and  mis- 
ery, and  friendless  sickness,  constantly  presented  to 
me,  and  learn  from  the  daily  prints  the  wretchedness 
and  agony  to  which  thousands  upon  thousands,  within 
two  or  three  days  journey  of  me  are  subjected,  I  feel 
that  itTwouldi  be  the  height  of  ingratitude  for  me  to 
complain  of  any  thing.  The  wretchedness  of  the  poor 
Irish  is  beyond  all  description  ;  that  of  many  parts  of 
Scotland  is  quite  equal  ;  and  London  abounds  with 
an  incalculable  amount  of  misery  which  scarcely  sees 
the  light.  I  have  just  been  reading  an  account  of  a 
poor  girl  of  twenty-eight^^years  old,  who  two  days 
since  presented  herself  at  the  Police  Court  in  London. 


162        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

She  was  a  person  of  education,  of  lady-like  appear- 
ance and  manners,  and  had  been  a  governess  in  a 
nobleman's  family  at  Berlin.  Here,  having  com- 
pleted her  engagements,  she  came  to  London,  hoping 
to  find  another  situation :  after  spending  what  little 
money  she  brought  with  her,  she  was  reduced  to  the 
dire  necessity  of  pawning  all  her  garments,  for  the 
sake  of  procuring  food,  and  had  been  twenty-four 
hours  without  food  or  fire  during  this  inclement 
weather.  She  was  anxious,  if  nothing  else  could 
be  obtained,  to  open  a  school  for  young  children.  In 
London,  under  such  circumstances,  without  money 
or  friends,  and  at  such  a  season,  for  a  young  lady  of 
education  to  be  thrown  upon  the  world,  it  would 
seem  scarcely  possible  to  imagine  a  more  painful  and 
wretched  condition.  But  London  is  full  of  cases 
as  wretched,  which  never  come  to  the  light ;  and  so 
is  Paris,  and  so  is  almost  every  great  city  in  this  part 
of  the  world,  where  the  contrasts  of  extreme  poverty 
and  enormous  wealth  ;  of  the  most  abject  destitution 
and  the  most  profuse  and  prodigal  luxury,  are  con- 
tinually presenting  themselves,  to  confound  all  our 
reasonings  on  the  subject  of  the  distribution  of 
property,  and  almost  to  extinguish  all  hopes  for  the 
amelioration  of  the  condition  of  society. 

I  have  been  but   twice  at  the  theatre,  for  eight 

weeks,  and  not  more  than  three  times  before 

Mr.  Green,  the  banker,  gave  an  elegant  ball  to  the 
Americans,  on  Washington's  birth  night,  which  I 
had  the  pleasure  to  attend.  Lady  Normanby,  the 
lady  of  the  English  Ambassador,  did  me  the  honor  of 
an  invitation  to    her   splendid   soiree,  where    were 


LETTER    CL.  163 

about  a  thousand  of  the  most  distinguished  persons 
in  the  country ;  and  these  are  all  the  public  places  or 
parties  of  any  importance,  which  I  have  attended,  or 
have  wished  to  attend ;  in  these  cases,  I  have  been 
more  from  a  desire  to  see  French  life  and  society, 
than  for  any  other  reason.  On  the  night  of  the  car- 
nival, I  looked  in,  likewise,  upon  three  masked  balls  ; 
places  which  are,  in  my  opinion,  odious  for  their  riot 
and  extravagance,  and  detestable  for  their  immo- 
rality. 

1  have  been  to  visit  again,  Pere  La  Chaise,  and 
the  Cemetery  of  Mont  Martre,  which  is  equally 
interesting ;  the  chapel  built  over  the  spot  where 
Louis  XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette,  were  interred  ; 
and  the  chapel  erected  upon  the  place  where  the 
Duke  of  Orleans,  the  eldest  son  of  the  present  king, 
was  thrown  from  his  carriage,  and  killed.  These 
are  places  creating  a  most  intense  interest. 

The  Chapel  Expiatiore,  near  the  end  of  the  Rue 
Madeleine,  is  well  deserving  of  a  visit.  In  my  opin- 
ion, it  is  a  perfect  gem  of  art,  and  cannot  be  too 
much  admired  for  the  simplicity  both  of  its  exterior 
and  interior.  It  is  entered  by  a  considerable  flight 
of  steps,  through  a  long  passage  and  a  vestibule  or 
portico  detached  from  the  church,  and  presenting, 
with  the  church,  a  beautiful  specimen  of  architec- 
tural taste  and  skill.  The  chapel  itself  would 
scarcely  contain  more  than  two  hundred  people,  and 
may  be  considered  rather  as  a  funeral  monument 
than  as  a  place  of  religious  worship.  It  is  lighted 
entirely  from  above  ;  and  the  altar  within  is  remark- 
able for  its  plainness,  and  is  ornamented  with  the 


164        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

usual  furniture  of  Catholic  worship.  On  the  right 
side  of  the  church,  upon  entering,  in  a  semi-circular 
recess  on  a  raised  pedestal,  is  a  figure  of  the  king, 
Louis  XVI.  in  marble,  of  the  size  of  life,  in  his  royal 
robes  and  with  his  arms  extended  in  the  attitude  of 
supplication,  while  a  winged  angel  is  supporting 
his  head.  On  the  other  side,  in  a  corresponding 
recess,  is  a  statue  of  the  queen,  Marie  Antoinette,  in 
a  kneeling  posture,  while  a  figure  in  robes,  supposed 
to  represent  Faith,  is  presenting  the  cross  to  her, 
to  which  she  seems  to  be  looking  with  intense 
fervor.  The  angel  supporting  the  king  is  point- 
ing with  his  finger  towards  heaven ;  the  queen's 
flowing  locks  overspread  her  shoulders ;  and  this, 
like  every  other  statue  which  I  have  seen  of  her,  is 
distinguished  for  its  remarkable  beauty  of  counte- 
nance and  expression.  Beneath  the  statue  of  the 
king,  on  the  front  of  the  pedestal,  is  a  transcript  of 
his  will ;  and  in  front  of  that  of  the  queen,  a  copy  of 
a  letter  written  by  her  to  the  Princess  Elizabeth. 

The  chapel  was  erected  in  honor  of  these  unfortu- 
nate victims  of  revolutionary  madness,  by  Louis 
XVIII.  The  bodies  of  Louis  XVI.  and  his  beautiful 
queen  were  buried  here.  The  ground  was  purchased 
by  an  eminent  loyalist,  who  carefully  marked  the 
spot  where  this  affecting  deposit  was  made,  and  con- 
verted it  into  an  orchard,  that  the  graves  might  not 
be  recognized  and  desecrated  by  a  mob,  whose  vin- 
dictiveness  and  ferocity  knew  no  bounds.  It  is  said 
that  the  loyal  owner  of  the  grounds  sent  every  year 
a  bouquet,  gathered  from  the  graves  of  her  parents,  to 
the  Duchess  d'Angouleme :  an  act  most  beautiful  in 


LETTER    CL.  166 

its  taste  and  sentiment.  After  the  restoration  of 
Louis  XVIII.  to  the  throne,  this  chapel  was,  by  his 
authority,  erected  to  commemorate  this  spot  so  full 
of  affecting  associations ;  but  the  remains  of  the  king 
and  queen  were  disinterred  and  removed  to  the 
royal  vaults  in  the  cathedral  church  of  St.  Denis,  the 
common  burying  place  of  a  long  line  of  French 
kings  and  princes. 

The  ground  around  the  chapel,  and  the  approaches 
to  it,  are  lined  with  cypress  trees,  that  every  thing 
may  be  in  keeping  with  the  painful  recollections 
inevitably  connected  with  it.  In  the  vaults  under 
the  chapel  are  monuments  which  mark  the  spots 
where  the  bodies  were  interred.  The  chairs  in  the 
church  are  covered  with  crimson  velvet,  which  seemed 
to  indicate  that  it  was  frequented  only  by  the  higher 
classes.  In  the  niches  of  the  wall  are  several  gilt 
candelabras,  and  the  chapel,  when  lighted  for  an 
evening  service,  must  be  singularly  beautiful,  and  the 
rays  reflected  from  the  statues  of  marble  of  purest 
white,  must  give  them  an  extraordinary  splendor. 

The  Chapel  of  St.  Ferdinand,  erected  upon  the 
spot  where  the  Duke  of  Orleans  met  his  sad  fate,  and 
to  commemorate  that  affecting  event,  is  full  of 
pathetic  associations.  In  returning  home  from  an 
afternoon  drive,  his  horses  became  restive  and  un- 
manageable, and  leaping  from  the  carriage,  he  fell 
and  fractured  his  skull ;  sensibility  was  destroyed, 
and  after  two  or  three  hours  deatji  ensued.  This 
happened  in  1842.  He  was  taken  up  and  carried 
into  a  neighboring  grocery,  where  he  lingered  until 
his  death,  surrounded  by  the  king  and  queen,  some 


1^        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

of  his  brothers  and  sisters,  and  several  professional 
and  distinguished  characters.  He  was  the  heir-ap- 
parent to  the  throne,  and  his  disposition  and  character 
made  him  a  favorite  of  his  family  and  universally  so 
with  the  people. 

The  estate  was  purchased  by  the  king,  and  on  the 
very  spot  where  he  died,  this  chapel  was  erected.  Its 
exterior  is  tasteful,  and  its  interior  singularly  plain. 
Over  the  altar  is  a  beautiful  statue  of  the  virgin  and 
child,  and  on  the  right  hand  side  of  the  chapel  at 
entering,  on  a  pedestal,  is  a  full-length  statue  of  the 
dying  prince,  laying  his  head  at  the  feet  of  the  figure 
of  an  angel  stretching  out  her  hands  in  a  posture  of 
devotion.  This  last  figure,  which  is  exquisitely 
wrought  in  marble,  is  the  actual  work  of  his  sister, 
the  Princess  Marie,  who  died  some  time  before  him, 
and  was  distinguished  for  her  taste  in  the  fine  arts. 
It  was  intended  for  another  purpose,  but  with  great 
taste  adapted  by  the  artist,  who  sculptured  the  figure 
of  the  prince,  to  this  object,  for  which  one  might 
suppose  it  was  originally  designed.  Descending  a 
few  steps  behind  the  altar,  you  reach  the  room  which 
formed  the  kitchen  of  the  grocery,  where  the  young 
prince  expired.  Here  is  a  striking  painting  of  the 
whole  group  brought  together  by  that  event.-  The 
Q,ueen  is  kneeling  with  her  head  inclined,  upon  his 
side ;  the  king,  himself,  is  kneeling  at  his  feet,  with 
an  expression  of  mute,  but  intense  grief;  two  of  the 
brothers,  and  two-sisters,  are  standing  near  ;  the  priest 
is  administering  extreme  unction  to  the  dying  man, 
and  some  of  the  king's  ministers  and  attendants  are 
in  the  back  ground.     The  expression  of  the  whole 


LETTER    CL.  167 

group  corresponds  with  the  nature  of  the  occasion, 
and  is  extremely  affecting. 

The  chairs  in  the  body  of  the  church,  are  covered 
with  black,  and  the  seats  embroidered  ;  the  work,  it  is 
said,  of  the  Q.ueen  and  the  princesses.  lu  the  same 
yard,  is  a  small  building  designed  as  a  resting  place 
for  the  queen,  or  any  other  of  the  royal  family,  when 
they  come  to  visit  the  place.  Every  thing  within  is 
of  a  simple  and  sombre  character.  Two  clocks  are 
in  one  of  the  rooms,  one  of  which  marks  the  hour 
when  the  accident  happened,  the  other,  when  he 
expired.  There  is,  likewise,  a  full  length  portrait  of 
the  Prince,  representing  him  as  he  appeared  previous 
to  the  accident,  which  contrasts  most  strikingly  with 
his  appearance  just  before  he  expired. 

The  queen  and  family  were,  it  seems,  devotedly 
attached  to  him.  The  place  so  full  of  afflictive  asso- 
ciations, and  most  tender  reminiscences,  is  one  of 
very  frequent  and  habitual  resort  to  them.  Here 
they  come,  frequently,  to  indulge  their  tender  recol- 
lections, and  to  cherish  sentiments  of  affection  among 
the  most  beautiful  with  which  the  human  heart  is 
endowed. 

I  have,  likewise,  been  to  the  palace  of  St.  Cloud, 
the  most  splendid  establishment  I  have  yet  seen,  and 
the  favorite  palace  of  Napoleon ;  and  in  that  neigh- 
berhood,  I  visited  the  manufacture  of  Porcelain  at 
Sevres,  of  the  beauty  of  which  it  is  impossible  for 
words  to  convey  an  idea.  You  may  judge  of  the  ex- 
pensiveness  of  some  of  the  articles,  when  I  tell  you  that 
a  single  picture  was  valued  at  ^10,000  ;  two  vases,  at 
$7,000 ;  and  dessert  plates,  at  $40  each.     Of  course. 


168  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

none  but  the  largest  fortunes  can  indulge  in  such 
luxuries  as  these,  but  I  could  enjoy  the  inspection  of 
them  as  much  as  those  who  owned  them.  I  do  not 
give  you  any  extended  description  of  these,  for  that 
I  have  already  written  in  another  place,  which  you 
will  presently  have  the  opportunity  of  inspecting. 

The  weather  here,  of  late,  has  been  very  cold  ;  the 
ice  is  abundant,  but  snow  is  rare  in  the  city,  though 
there  has  been  much  in  the  country.  I  have  not, 
however,  found  the  expense  of  fuel  here,  more  than 
it  was  in  England.  Fuel  is  very  much  dearer,  wood 
being  from  $25  to  ^28  per  cord,  and  coal  much 
dearer  than  in  England.  But  in  England,  coal  being 
abundant  and  cheap,  we  used  it  without  stint,  and  I 
seldom  went  out  without  ordering  the  servant  to  keep 
up  a  good  fire  ;  here  I  practice,  like  other  people,  the 
most  rigid  economy  of  fuel,  and  do  not  burn  in  any 
case  more  than  is  absolutely  necessary,  always  taking 
my  fire  apart  when  I  leave  the  house,  and  never 
suffering  any  fuel  to  be  wasted.  My  room  has  not 
been  kept  nearly  so  warm  as  in  England,  but  it  has 
been  sufficiently  so,  and  I  think  I  have  had  fewer 
colds,  and  have  actually  suffered  less  from  exposure 
than  in  London.  The  French,  themselves,  exercise 
the  most  severe  frugality  in  fuel,  many  of  them  being 
entirely  without  fire  through  the  whole  winter,  ex- 
cepting for  cooking,  and  then  burning  charcoal  only  ; 
and  some  of  the  coldest  days  this  winter,  I  have  seen, 
I  may  almost  say,  hundreds  of  women  tending  shops, 
with  open  doors,  and  without  bonnets,  and  sitting 
down  at  work  at  their  needle,  or  attending  their 
stalls  in  the  markets  and  in  the  public  squares,  with- 


***  "  LETTE*    CLI.  169 

out  any  thing  but  a  cap  and  a  shawl,  though  I  am  told 
they  take  care  to  be  well  fortified  with  under-gar- 
ments.  Every  day,  you  may  see  in  the  public  gar- 
dens and  the  Elysian  fields,  hundreds,  and  I  should 
be  almost  safe  in  saying  thousands  of  women,  nurses, 
with  only  caps  on  their  heads,  for  this  class  never 
wear  bonnets,  with  fine,  healthy  children  in  their 
arms,  whom  they  take  out,  rain  or  shine,  cold  or  hot, 
for  air  and  exercise.     Adieu. 


LETTER  CLI. 

TO    MRS.    B . 

Paris,  3d  March,  1847. 
My  Deab  Friend  : 

So  it  seems  that  you  are  determined  not  to  write 
another  word,  and  to  leave  me  in  all  the  anxious  un- 
certainty as  to  the  progress  of  events  of  which  Mr. 

P was  kind  enough  to  announce  the  auspicious 

commencement.  Whether  you  have  grown  lazy,  or 
stingy,  or  obstinate,  I  am  quite  at  a  loss  to  conjec- 
ture ;  but  you  know  how  desirous  I  am  to  learn  if 
affairs  continue  as  prosperous  as  we  could  desire.  In 
Paris,  nine  days  are  considered  quite  sufficient  to 
restore  a  patient,  and  you  see  all  over  the  city  signs 
to  this  effect ;  houses,  upon  the  corner  of  which  you 
see  a  whole  length  picture  of  a  woman,  well  dressed, 
somewhat  like  a  nurse,  holding  a  child  in  her  arms, 
and -an  inscription  at  the  bottom,  offering  the  services 

VOL.    II.  8 


170        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

of  a  feme  sage,  and  promising  board,  lodging,  and  all 
necessary  attendance  for  nine  days,  upon  moderate 
terms.  I  was  much  amused  and  not  a  little  electri- 
fied by  the  sight,  in  one  of  the  streets,  of  a  brilliantly 
painted  sign  of  this  description,  in  which  the  woman 
had  no  child  in  her  arms,  but  a  basket  before  her, 
containing  three  or  four  undressed  babies  —  a  kind 
of  litter  of  children  —  the  very  idea  of  which,  consid- 
ering the  hardness  of  the  times  and  the  price  of  bread, 
could  Lord  John  Russell  have  shown  it  in  the  House 
of  Commons,  would  have  driven  half  of  the  members 
home  in  a  fit  of  desperation.  Now,  then,  my  dear 
friend,  do  let  me  know  how  things  go  on,  and  how 
the  good  lady  plays  the  part  of  a  mother,  and  bears 
her  blushing  honors.  I  wrote  to  her  just  before  the 
advent  of  the  stranger. 

We  have  had  winter  here  in  earnest  for  about  six 
or  eight  days.  The  weather  has  been  dry,  but  bit- 
terly cold  ;  and  after  some  warm  promises,  which 
preceded  this  cold  weather,  some  coloring  of  the 
branches  of  the  trees,  and  some  swelling  of  the  buds, 
nobody  has  been  found  civil  enough  to  bid  it  wel- 
come. It  is  much  better,  however,  to  have  the  cold 
weather  at  the  beginning  than  at  the  close  of  March, 
and  a  cold  commencement  of  the  month  is  supposed 
to  augur  a  mild  conclusion.  The  weather,  however, 
seems  to  me,  though  everywhere  one  of  the  most 
fruitful  topics,  yet  one  of  the  last  things  to  complain 
of.  What  can  we  do  about  it  ?  When  I  hear  peo- 
ple say,  "  I  like  such  and  such  weather ;  or,  I  should 
like  to  have  it  a  little  warmer  or  a  little  colder ;  or, 
we  ought  to  have  some   rain   now  ;    or,  some    dry 


l^ETTER   CLI.  171 

weather  at  another  time,"  I  am  always  disposed  to 
inquire  what  is  the  use  ?  We  are  perfectly  helpless 
in  the  matter ;  we  can  determine,  we  can  control 
nothing ;  we  cannot  model  it  to  our  wishes,  and  if 
it  were  modelled  according  to  our  wishes,  it  would 
undoubtedly  be  very  much  against  the  convenience 
or  interest  of  other  people.  What  is  the  use,  there- 
fore, of  giving  ourselves  the  least  concern  about  it, 
excepting  so  far  as  to  adapt  our  own  feelings  and 
measures  to  its  changeable ness  and  uncertainties  ? 
If  I  were  disposed  to  give  a  lesson  in  philosophy,  I 
mean  the  philosophy  of  life,  that,  indeed,  which 
more  concerns  us  than  any  thing  else,  I  should  say 
this  is  universally  a  good  rule  of  conduct.  What 
event  in  life  can  we  control  beyond  our  own  con- 
duct ?  how  little  can  we  determine  our  destiny  ?  how 
imperfectly  do  we  understand  what  would  be  really 
best  for  us  ?  and  what  is  the  true  art  of  living  wisely  ? 
Certainly  not  a  habit  of  desiring  that  we  could 
arrange  every  thing  around  us  according  to  our  wishes, 
but  of  arranging  our  whole  conduct,  and  disciplining 
our  own  minds  to  meet  all  the  uncertainties  which 
lie  in  our  path,  and  the  changes  which  we  must 
encounter. 

I  should  like  exceedingly  to   see   E with  a 

child  upon  her  knee ;  so  glittering  as  I  know  she  will 
appear,  so  proud  and  so  complacent.  Mr.  P pro- 
fesses to  have  little  philoprogenitiveness,  but  this  will 
bring  it  out,  and,  united  with  his  amativeness,  or, 
more  properly,  his  conjugality,  for  I  do  not  know 
how  else  to  express  it,  I  shall  expect  him  to  become 
quite  an  amateur  in  the  nursery.     Heaven  send  them 


172  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AlfD    MANNERS. 

prosperity  !     He  writes  me  that  one  of  the  N 's 

is  "going  over  to  the  enemy ;  "  I  presume,  from  his 
account,  the  charming  peach-blossom.  The  man 
"  who  finds  acceptance  there,"  must  be  congratulated 
for  his  good  fortune.     Yours  truly. 


LETTER  CLII. 


TO    MRS.    Y- 


Paris,  Sunday,  27th  March,  1847- 
Mt  Dbar  Friend  : 

Your  letter  of  the  25th  has  just  come  to  hand, 
warm  and  sparkling,  like  your  own  nature ;  and  I 
should  do  myself  a  hardship  if  T  delayed  a  moment 
to  express  my  grateful  acknowledgment  of  what  has 
given  me  so  much  pleasure.  I  began  to  think  my 
English  friends  had  forgotten  me  ;  and  I  know  few 
things  in  this  world  that  could  happen  which  would 
give  me    so  much   pain.     I  will   entirely  acquit,  in 

this  case,  my  dear  friend,  Mrs.  B ,  against  whom 

I  cannot  find  it  in  my  heart  to  complain ;  but  here 

is  E ,  promising,  promising,  and  making  up  all 

sorts  of  pretty  faces  at  me,  but  never  sending  one 
word  of  consolation  in  my  Siberian  exile.  Pray  tell 
me,  does  this  rising  star,  just  peeping  above  the 
horizon,  so  engross  the  adoration  of  this  pattern 
household,  that  friends  and  every  thing  else  are  for- 
gotten ?  I  did  not  believe  she  was  half  so  selfish, 
But  I  suppose  I  shall  be  told  "there  never  was  such 


LETTER    CLII.  173 

a  child ;  "  ah,  very  likely  ;  jjerhaps  there  never  was 
a  child  before ;  and  I  shall  expect  nothing  else  on 
my  return  than  to  find  the  bell-pull  at  Middleton 
Square  tied  up  in  a  beau-knot,  with  a  brilliant  satin 
ribbon,  the  marble  steps  covered  with  red  baize,  and 
a  detachment  of  the  police,  by  order  of  the  govern- 
ment, stationed  near  the  house,  that  the  common 
people  may  not  even  see  the  idol  through  the  window. 
Pray  send  her  a  grave  lecture  on  the  occasion,  if  it 
is  possible  for  you  to  look  grave  on  any  occasion,  and 
appeal  to  her  good  principles,  and  let  her  know  that 
though  love  may  begin  at  home  it  must  not  end  there  ; 
and  that  really  children  are  not  such  wonderful  things 
after  all,  as  any  body  may  see,  who  will  take  the 
trouble  to  go  to  the  Creche  here,  where  they  are  as 
thick  as  blackberries.  The  Creche  is  the  place 
where  the  poor  mothers  leave  their  children  in  the 
morning,  in  the  care  of  some  kind  women  who 
have  a  large  philoprogenitiveness  and  no  other  means 
of  gratifying  it  than  by  pet  cats  or  dogs,  or  other  peo- 
ple's children,  and  go  off  to  their  work  until  night. 
One  has  only  to  enter  one  of  these  Creches,  which  are 
most  benevolent  institutions  and  to  be  found  in  every 
one  of  the  twelve  arrondissements  of  Paris,  to  delight 
himself  with  the  mixed  and  charming  music  of  these 
nightingales  —  quite  equal  to  an  opera  chorus.  I  sup- 
pose they  contribute  some  artificial  means  to  quiet 
their  noisy  tribe,  and  perhaps,  in  case  of  extremity, 
dose  them  oflf,  as  in  the  reports  to  Parliament  the 
Manchester  mothers  are  said  to  do,  with  Godfrey's  cor- 
dial, or  some  other  of  those  charming  drugs,  which 
that  useful  class  of  men,  the  apothecaries  and  chem- 


174         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

ists  of  the  Malthusian  school,  stimulated  by  the  fash- 
ionable doctrines  of  political  economy,  are  so  ready 

to  invent.     Beg  E by  no   means  to  trust  her 

precious  possession  out  of  her  hands,  for  though,  as 
you  see,  I  do  not  think  much  of  babies,  I  am  anxious 
to  see  this  eighth  wonder  of  the  world,  and  to  see 
the  mother  as  a  mother,  whom  I  consider  the  ninth 
wonder  of  the  world. 

So  it  seems,  according  to  your  own  account,  you 
have  grown  very  old  and  ugly.  Can  it  be  so  ?  do 
you  mean  I  shall  understand  it  so  ?  or  am  I  to  regard 
it  as  an  orthodox  confession  of  sinfulness,  which  is 
only  so  much  good,  pious  talk?  My  surprise  in  the 
case,  if  I  must  believe  the  account,  is,  that  it  could 
have  happened  so  suddenly.  I  dare  say,  as  the 
spring  weather  has  commenced,  you  have  begun 
already,  after  the  fashion  of  the  opening  flowers,  to 
appear  in  silks  and  feathers,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that 
if  I  could  suddenly  make  my  appearance  any  fine 
day  in  April  on  the  nursery  ground  at  Islington,  I 
should  find  you  strutting  down  there  among  the 
children  and  nurses,  with  all  that  matronly  pride, 
mixed  with  that  girlish  simplicity,  which  so  much 
becomes  you,  and  woe  be  to  the  poor  fellow  who, 
under  such  circumstances,  would  even  dare  think 
of  any  thing  old  or  ugly  in  your  presence.  By  the 
way,  speaking  of  street  nurses,  there  is  not  a  sight  in 
Paris,  this  sight-full  city,  which  so  much  delights 
me,  as  the  garden  of  the  Tuilleries  on  any  pleasant 
day,  when  there  are  to  be  seen  collected,  at  the  least 
a  thousand,  and  I  dare  say  I  have  seen  two  thousand 
at  a  time,  of  nurses  and  children,  and  oftentimes  their 


LETTER   CLll.  175 

parents  —  the  children  playing,  the  nurses  sewing  or 
gossiping,  and  the  parents  either  ienjoying  the  sports 
of  their  children,  or  working  or  reading  in  the  open 
air,  on  the  benches  or  chairs;  the  nurses  with  their 
clean  aprons  and  white  caps,  not  a  bonnet  to  be  seen 
among  them,  and  the  children  dressed  with  a  beauty 
and  taste  perfectly  delightful.  The  other  day  I  was 
amusing  myself  for  half  an  hour  in  seeing  five  little 
girls,  the  largest  of  them  not  rhore  than  seven  years 
old,  jumping  upon  the  same  rope,  and  keeping  it  up 
with  an  enthusiasm  and  success  quite  delightful.  I 
have  not,  myself,  yet  tried  any  experiments  at  jump- 
ing rope,  but  I  find  my  old  clay  actually  grows  warm 
when  I  see  so  many  of  these  beautiful  little  creatures 
as  happy  as  their  natures  admit  of.  A  long  face  in 
Paris,  an  ill-dressed  person,  a  ragged,  dirty  person, 
what  might  properly  be  called  a  vagabond,  is  not  to 
be  seen.  This  is  certainly  very  extraordinary.  Is 
it  so  in  London  ? 

My  dear  friend,  kiss  the  children  for  me ;  do  be 
good  and  let  me  hear  from  you  a  little  oftener  ;  it  is 
a  real  work  of  charity,  and  the  sands  in  my  glass  you 
know  are  nearly  run  out.  Your  husband  has  always 
my  best  regards.  I  only  wish  he  had  a  better  wife, 
but  certainly  not  another.  Many  people  have  not 
one  half  as  good.     Yours  affectionately. 


\ 


176        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 


LETTER  CLIII. 


TO    MRS.    B- 


Paris,  29th  March,  1847. 
Mt  Deak  Friend: 

I  SUPPOSE  our  letters  must  have  crossed  each  other 
on  the  way,  and  I  dare  say  without  any  recognition ; 
it  would  not  be  so  with  the  writers  themselves,  I  am 
sure,  if  they  knew  each  other's  progress.  I  thought 
you  would  pronounce  a  severe  judgment  upon  the 
speech  which  I  sent  you,  and  it  was,  I  confess,  very 
unbecoming  in  the  orator  to  deliver  such  an  one  ; 
however,  as  I  live  in  a  country  where  indulgences 
are  sold,  I  have  made  my  confession,  and  have  got 
absolution.  A  charming  thing  it  is,  to  find  these 
spiritual  blanchiseuses  at  hand,  ready,  if  you  are  ever 
so  spotted  and  dirty,  to  wash  you  out,  and  turn  you 
again  upon  the  world  clean  and  fresh.  I  am  a  Cath- 
lic  for  all  such  occasions.  I  hope  none  of  my  friends 
on  the  other  side  of  the  channel  require  any  such 
purification. 

I  like  Paris  extremely,  but  you  might  as  well 
imdertake  to  to  pull  my  limbs  off,  as  to  draw  away  at 
all,  or  loosen  in  any  degree,  my  attachment  to  my 
English  friends.  Now  put  these  out  of  the  question, 
and  let  me  tell  you  some  of  the  differences  between 
England  and  France. 

As  a  city,  Paris  is  more  elegant  than   London. 


LETTER    CLIII.  177 

Nothing  can  exceed  the  beauty  of  the  English  parks  ; 
but  the  public  gardens  in  Paris  are  numerous,  exten- 
sive, and  open  to  everybody. 

The  public  buildings  in  Paris  are  more  splendid, 
and  more  elegantly  furnished,  than  in  London  ;  and 
more  than  that,  they  are  all  open  to  the  public  free 
of  charge  on  certain  days. 

There  are,  as  I  have  observed  in  a  former  letter, 
many  public  libraries  in  Paris,  containing,  not  thou- 
sands, but  hundreds  of  thousands  of  volumes,  most 
of  them  open  to  the  public  free  of  charge. 

There  are  full  and  various  courses  of  lectures  on 
arts  and  sciences,  by  the  most  eminent  men  living, 
continually  going  on,  all  open  gratuitously  to  the 
public. 

The  tuition  at  the  schools  of  law  and  medicine 
and  fine  arts,  &c.,  &c.,  (fcc,  is  of  the  highest  order, 
and  costs  nothing. 

The  modes  of  living  are  very  much  more  conven- 
ient and  independent  than  in  London. 

I  was  told  there  was  no  such  thing  as  comfort  in 
Paris.  The  comforts  of  living  are  much  greater  in 
Paris  than  in  London. 

The  general  manners  of  the  Parisians  are  more 
courteous  than  in  London.  In  getting  into  public 
places,  operas,  or  theatres,  there  is  no  crowding  ;  no 
one  can  go  in  before  his  turn  ;  only  two  persons  can 
enter  at  a  time ;  and,  if  you  leave  your  seat,  you 
have  only  to  leave  your  glove,  your  handkerchief,  or 
even  your  newspaper  upon  it,  and  you  are  sure  to 
have  it  again,  and  your  glove  and  handkerchief  into 
the  bargain.  In  churches,  Catholic  and  Protestant, 
there  are  no  distinctions  of  rank;    the  man  in  his 


178  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

blouse,  and  the  lady  in  her  satins,  sit  down  side  by 
side.  In  some  churches  you  pay  a  penny  for  a  chair ; 
in  most  churches  you  pay  nothing  ;  in  all  there  are 
plenty  of  free  seats. 

All  the  galleries,  pictures,  sculpture,  &c.,  &c.,  are 
open  on  certain  days,  indiscriminately  to  the  public. 

With  one  single  gross  exception,  the  streets  in 
Paris  are  as  clean  as  in  London  ;  the  public  convey- 
ances much  better ;  their  drivers  are  better  dressed, 
and  the  voitures  and  carriages  much  cleaner.  The 
driver  being  always  required  to  give  you  his  number 
on  a  card  when  you  enter,  and  the  table  of  fares 
being  posted  up  in  the  carriage,  you  are  secure  against 
imposition.  The  omnibuses  are  so  wide  that  you 
can  get  in  and  out  without  crowding  your  neighbors, 
and  there  is  an  iron  bar  or  strap  overhead  to  steady 
your  passage,  —  besides,  they  are  always  lighted  at 
night. 

The  streets  at  night  are  more  quiet  than  in  Lon- 
don. None  of  those  unfortunate  creatures,  who  in- 
infest  the  streets  of  London,  by  night  and  by  day,  are 
ever  suffered  to  show  themselves  before  candle  light- 
ing ;  they  are  not  permitted,  under  the  severest  pen- 
alties, to  speak  to  any  person  without  encouragement, 
and  are  at  once  taken  to  prison,  if  they  are  found  in 
the  streets  after  eleven  o'clock. 

Then  again,  here  is  scarcely  a  beggar  to  be  found, 
and  never  an  importunate  one  ;  a  barefooted  or  rag- 
ged person  is  not  to  be  met  with  ;  I  have  not  seen 
six  persons  excited  by  liquor,  and  not  a  drunken  per- 
son since  I  have  been  here,  and  never  but  in  a  single 
case  saw  a  woman  drinking  in  a  public  wine-shop  ; 
ei4  ui 


LETTER    CLIII.  179 

and  literally,  when  I  have  oflfered  money  to  persons 
whom  I  took  to  be  real  objects  of  charity,  my  kind- 
ness has  been  firmly  but  politely  declined. 

The  English  are  full  of  prejudices  against  the 
French.  I  do  not  mean  to  do  the  English  any 
injustice  ;  but  I  as  little  desire  to  do  any  injustice  to 
the  French.  • 

In  the  art  of  living  comfortably,  happily,  and  fru- 
gally, I  do  not  believe  that  any  people  are  superior 
to  the  French.  They  have  gross  faults,  I  dare  say  ; 
but  I  cannot  say  that,  as  yet,  I  have  been,  in  the 
slightest  measure,  or  under  any  circumstances,  de- 
frauded or  ill-used ;  and,  though  I  was  told  I  should 
find  double  prices  in  every  shop,  I  have  found  it  to 
be  the  case  no  oftener  than  in  other  places.  French 
cooking  is  not  to  my  taste ;  but  the  French  markets 
in  poultry,  vegetables,  fruits,  fish,  and  flowers,  are 
far  superior  to  any  which  I  have  seen,  and  in  the  ex- 
cellent manner  in  which  things  are  brought  to  mar- 
ket, they  are  preeminent.  It  is  impossible  to  exag- 
gerate the  cleanliness  and  beauty  of  the  French  mar- 
kets. The  market  in  th^  Fauhorg  St.  Germain  is 
a  perfect  model  of  neatness  and  order.  The  dress 
and  manners  of  the  market-women,  too,  even  the 
fish-women  in  the  great  markets,  is  equally  credita- 
ble. The  women,  in  all  the  markets  and  shops,  keep 
the  books  and  accounts,  and,  in  this  respect,  show  a 
thorough  mercantile  education.     Yours  truly. 


180        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 


LETTER  CLIV. 

Paris,  30th  March,  1847. 
My  Deab  M : 

Paris  cannot  be  called  a  cheap  place  to  live  in  ; 
yet,  a  person  lives  here,  I  believe,  with  more  inde- 
pendence than  anywhere.  Private  houses  and 
lodging  houses  here,  are  universally  called  hotels. 
Though  you  are  piled  up  in  them  seven  strata  deep, 
nobody  knows  his  neighbors,  either  above,  below,  or 
at  the  side  of  him.  Persons  live  both  sides  of  my 
chamber,  and  have  done  so  for]months  ;  nothing  but 
a  partition  separates  us.  We  come  out  into  the  same 
entry,  we  ascend  and  descend  the  same  staircase ; 
but  so  far  from  knowing  who  they  are,  or  what  they 
are,  I  do  not  even  know  them  by  sight.  I  did  not 
even  know  the  names  of  the  landlord  of  the  house, 
or  the  landlady,  until  I  had  been  here  for  months. 

Paris  is  now  getting  to  be  delightful.  I  have  seen 
nothing,  in  beauty  and  magnificence,  to  exceed  it ; 
and  in  so  numerous  a  population,  it  seems  to  me  im- 
possible to  find  more  evidences  of  thrift.  The  indus- 
try and  economy  of  the  people,  too,  are  most  strik- 
ing ;  which,  especially  so  far  as  the  women  are 
concerned,  exceed  any  thing  known^  in  England  or 
in  the  United  States.  Every  body  is  well-dressed, 
well-behaved,  and  cheerful.  The  streets  are  safe  by 
night  and  by  day.  I  went  the  other  night  with  a 
friend  familiar  with  Paris,  at  midnight,  through  what 


LETTER    CLIV.  181 

are  deemed  the  very  worst  parts  of  Paris.  The 
streets  were  as  quiet  as  they  would  be  in  a  country 
town,  and  I  felt  as  secure  as  I  should  have  done  to 
have  gone  at  the  same  hour  from  one  end  of  Salem 
to  the  other.  Not  a  woman  is  ever  to  be  seen  unat- 
tended, in  the  streets  of  Paris,  after  eleven  o'clock 
at  night,  unless  she  be  some  nurse,  or  poor  servant, 
or  can  give  a  good  account  of  herself.  I  am  told 
all  this  is  the  effect  of  a  strict  and  numerous  police. 
Well,  then,  [  am  content  to  have  a  strict  police.  If 
the  vicious  cannot  be  controlled,  so  that  the  well 
disposed  and  virtuous  may  be  secure  without  bayo- 
nets, I  am  content  to  have  bayonets.  The  police 
will  do  me  no  harm,  unless  I  wish,  or  attempt  to  do 
wrong ;  and  then,  of  course,  it  is  as  well  for  myself, 
as  society,  that  I  should  be  restrained.  I  at  first 
looked  at  these  armed  policemen  and  soldiers,  both 
in  London  and  Paris,  with  a  shudder,  but  I  feel 
happy  in  the  perfect  security  which  they  give,  and  I 
regard  them  now  with  a  grateful  confidence.  Some- 
times they  may  abuse  their  power,  but  the  govern- 
ment take  the  utmost  care  to  prevent  any  such  abuses. 
A  man  has  always  liberty  enough,  if  he  has  liberty 
to  do  any  thing  which  is  right ;  if  he  wants  the  lib- 
erty to  do  wrong,  he  ought  not  to  have  it. 

Mr.  S leaves  for   Boston  in  the  steamer  of  the 

19th  inst.,  with  his  family.  He  buried  one  daughter 
at  Naples,  a  beautiful  and  lovely  young  lady,  about 
eighteen  years  old  ;  full  of  brightness  and  promise, 
loving  and  beloved,  happy  and  making  others  happy, 
who  there  was  suddenly  crushed,  like  a  full-blown 
flower,  when  the  stem  is  broken.     His  other  daugh- 


182        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

ter,  a  charming  young  lady,  was  married  here  a 
fortnight  ago.  Their  kindness  to  me  has  been  most 
exemplary.  I  have  dined  with  them  once  a  week, 
through  the  winter ;  and  I  cannot  tell  what  pleasure 
it  has  been  to  me,  to  feel  that  I  had  here  a  kind  of 
home  ;  for  home,  home,  home,  after  all,  in  spite  of 
all  appearances,  is  the  object,  dearest  of  all  others, 
to  my  heart ;  and  I  believe  in  my  soul,  that  if  I  was 
suddenly  without  any  previous  arrangement  or 
expectation,  set  down  among  you,  I  should  die  of 
excitement. 

Mr.  and  Miss  Joy  have  likewise  been  extremely 
kind  and  polite,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Morey  ;  all  of 
whom  are  looking  to  their  native  shores  with  strong 
interest,  and  point  their  faces  homeward  this  spring. 
The  attentions  of  Lord  Normanby,  the  British  am- 
bassador, to  me,  have  been  most  kind.  I  had  staid 
with  him  and  the  Marchioness  three  days,  at  the 
Duke  of  Bedford's  ;  but  this  gave  me  no  claim  upon 
him,  and  I  should  not  have  felt  at  liberty  to  call  on 
him.  But  Lady  Normanby  is  the  sister  of  Lady 
Hardwicke,  and  she  or  Lord  Hardwicke  gave  me  a 
letter,  which,  after  being  in  Paris  a  month,  I  left, 
with  my  card.  Any  kind  of  invitation  would,  in 
ordinary  cases,  have  paid  that  debt,  if  it  must  be  so 
considered.  But  they  have  invited  me  to  two  mag- 
nificent soirees,  once  to  a  most  elegant  dinner  party, 
and  last  night  I  received  another  invitation  to  dine 
next  week.  This  is  very  kind.  Besides,  they  have 
asked  me  to  visit  them  at  other  tiines,  without  cere- 
mony ;  but  thus  knowing  their  constant  and  numer- 
ous engagements,  I  have  invariably  declined,  and 
liave  only  left  my  card. 


LETTER    CLV.  183 

The  Count  de  Gourcy,  a  most  excellent  man,  and 
full  of  agricultural  knowledge  and  enthusiasm,  has 
been  most  devoted  in  his  attentions ;  and  Count 
Kergorlay,  a  gentlemen  of  improved  information,  and 
delightful  manners,  has  rendered  me  many  attentions. 
I  have  been  much  obliged,  likewise,  by  the  civilities 
of  Mrs.  Austin,  well  known  in  the  literary  world,  the 
mother  of  Lady  Duff  Gordon,  with  whom  I  had  the 
honor  of  an  acquaintance  in  London  ;  who  has  held 
what  is  called  a  reunion,  every  week  ;  where  I  was 
accustomed  to  meet  the  most  refined,  both  of  Eng- 
lish and  French  society.  The  Marchioness  de  La- 
valette  has  likewise  honored  me  with  many  atten- 
tions, and  every  American  experiences  the  polite  hos- 
pitalities of  Mr.  Green,  the  American  banker,  and  his 
agreeable  family. 

Mr.  Vattemare  leaves  for  the  United  States  in 
April,  with  many  thousand  volumes,  as  a  present  to 
the  different  States,  and  to  the  United  States.  I 
hope  you  will  see  him.  His  enterprise  of  establish- 
ing an  international  exchange  is  a  noble  one,  and  I 
believe  quite  disinterested.     Adieu. 


LETTER  CLV. 

Paris,  4th  April,  1847. 
Mt  Dear  M : 

You  must  not,  after  this,  feel  any  disappointment 
if  my  letters  are  not  regular,  as  I  do  not  know  in 
what   condition  or  position  I  shall  be   to  write,  and 


1S4  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AN1>    MANNERS. 

you  will  not  expect  to  hear  from  me  oftener  than 
once  a  month.  It  is  remarkable  that,  during  so  long 
a  separation,  I  believe  not  one  of  our  letters  has  been 
lost  or  miscarried. 

Since  I  wrote  to  you,  I  have  been  constantly  in 
attendance  upon  the  Agricultural  Congress,  which 
met  here,  until  its  adjournment  on  Friday,  One  day 
I  attended  an  agricultural  show  at  Poissy,  about 
eighteen  miles  from  town,  by  railroad  ;  and  I  spent 
yesterday  at  a  most  interesting  and  really  magnificent 
establishment,  the  Veterinary  School,  at  Alfort, 
about  eight  miles  from  the  city.  This  week  I  pro- 
pose to  go  to  Grignon,  to  see  an  agricultural  school 
and  model  farm  ;  to  Versailles,  and  also  to  Rambou- 
illet,  to  look  at  some  superior  flocks  of  sheep  ;  and  to 
some  of  the  cattle  markets,  which  I  have  not  yet 
seen.  This,  with  three  dinners  abroad  —  one  at 
Lord  Normanby's,  one  at  Count  Kergorlay's,  and  one 
at  Mr.  Green's  —  will,  with  my  writing,  I  think, 
quite  use  up  the  week.  If  dinners  in  Europe  came, 
as  they  do  in  Boston,  at  midday,  or  at  two  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon,  there  would  be  no  time  for  any 
thing. 

Passion  week  has  just  closed,  and  to-day  has  been 
Easter  Sunday,  a  high  festival  in  the  church.  You 
would  think,  if  you  were  here  in  the  churches,  that 
the  Parisians  were  the  most  religious  people  in  the 
world;  and,  if  church-going  and  worship  constituted 
religion,  it  would  be  a  just  inference.  Our  four-days' 
meeting  and  revivals  bear  very  little  comparison,  for 
intensity  and  punctuality,  to  the  observance  which 
prevail  here ;  and  I  believe  the  Protestant  churches 


LETTER    CLV.  185 

are  as  crowded  as  the  Catholic,  though  the  worship 
at  the  former  is  not,  as  at  the  latter,  going  on  at  all 
hours.  At  Mr.  Coqueril's  church  —  the  great  Protes- 
tant church  in  the  city  —  seventy-five  persons  were 
received  to-day  at  the  communion,  and  the  church, 
which  holds  two  thousand  persons,  was  crammed  so 
as  to  render  the  admission  of  hundreds  impossible, 
more  than  an  hour  before  the  service.  To-night  all 
the  theatres  will  be  full  in  the  same  way,  and  many 
of  them  will,  undoubtedly,  be  filled  with  the  same 
persons,  who  were  at  church,  and  who  now,  at  the 
close  of  Lent,  feel  at  liberty  to  find  some  compensa- 
tion for  a  long  abstinence  in  a  little  extraordinary 
recreation.  Paris,  however,  presents  the  greatest 
diversity  of  aspect.  To-day  when  I  come  out  of  the 
church,  I  found  a  juggler  and  tumbler,  with  his  three 
children,  performing  all  sorts  of  antics,  to  an  immense 
crowd,  immediately  before  the  door. 

I  attended  service  to-day  at  St.  Sulpice  —  one  of 
the  largest  Catholic  churches  in  the  city,  and  splendid 
beyond  any  description  which  I  can  give.  I  have 
no  doubt  there  were  six  thousand  people  there,  and 
hundreds  of  them  standing ;  and,  including  the 
priests  who  ofiiciated,  and  all  who  were  about  the 
altar,  there  were  full  two  hundred  ministers  of  every 
description.  1  cannot  think  of  any  thing  more 
splendid  and  gorgeous  than  the  robes  and  dresses  of 
the  crowd  of  priests  around  the  altar.  The  music 
from  two  organs  at  different  ends  of  the  church  was 
continued  through  almost  the  whole  service,  and  the 
chanting  of  some  of  the  psalms  was  sublime.  There 
were   bowings,  and   kneelings,   and  crossings,   and 


186        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

kissings  of  books  and  cups  and  plates,  enough  to  sat- 
isfy the  largest  veneration. 

On  Friday  I  attended  the  grand  service  at  Notre 
Dame,  where  the  archbishop  officiates;  and  here  I 
saw  the  relics  presented,  to  be  adored  and  kissed  by 
thousands  upon  thousands,  such  as  a  piece  of  the  real 
cross,  one  of  the  nails  with  which  our  Saviour  was 
fastened  to  the  cross,  and  the  crown  of  thorns.  I 
took  pains  to  stand  within  eight  feet  of  the  persons 
presenting  and  the  persons  kissing  these  relics,  or, 
otherwise,  I  am  afraid  I  never  should  have  been  con- 
vinced, that  respectable  and  educated,  and,  I  believe, 
really  religious  people,  could  have  the  presumption  to 
practise,  in  so  open  and  barefaced  a  manner,  what 
appears  to  us  as  the  grossest  impositions.  When, 
however,  they  bring  themselves  to  believe  that  the 
wafer,  which  the  priest  dispenses  to  the  communi- 
cants, is  a  real  piece  of  the  flesh  of  Jesus,  I  see  no 
difficulty  in  their  believing  any  thing,  and  deciding 
that  Jonah  swallowed  the  whale,  instead  of  the  whale 
having  swallowed  Jonah. 

I  have  nothing  to  say  against  any  person's  reli- 
gion ;  but,  with  the  best  attention  I  can  give  to  the 
subject,  I  could  never  find  the  shadow  of  a  shade 
of  the  Roman  Catholic  worship  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment. 

But,  at  the  same  time,  it  must  be  admitted,  that 
no  other  form  or  ritual  is  prescribed  there ;  the  Dis- 
senters' dull  and  dry  forms,  and  the  Quakers'  no 
forms,  no  more  than  the  Episcopal  or  the  Catholic 
ceremonial  ;  and,  therefore,  this  is  best  left  to  the 
judgment  and  reason  of  every  man,  according  to  the 


LETTER    CLV.  187 

dictates  of  a  larger  or  smaller  veneration,  that  being 
the  best  form  for  any  one  man,  which  best  calls  out, 
expresses,  strengthens,  and  renders  active  the  great 
principles  of  duty,  reverence  to  the  Supreme  Being, 
and  love  to  his  fellow  men. 

The  Catholic  religion  is  a  religion  of  immense 
power,  and  has  a  hold  upon  the  minds  of  men  even 
the  most  cultivated  and  intelligent,  which  may  be 
accounted  for,  first,  by  the  force  of  education  and 
habit,  of  whose  imperious  influence,  in  all  cases,  we 
do  not  need  examples;  and  secondly,  in  that  the 
religious  sentiment  in  the  human  mind  is  distinct 
from  the  reasoning  powers,  and  men  feel  that  there 
is  a  merit  and  a  duty  in  yielding  to  this  sentiment 
even  against  reason,  —  perhaps  the  more  merit  from 
its  being  against  reason,  as  the  eminent  Bossuet 
remarks,  that  '-  the  noblest  sacrifice  which  man  can 
offer  to  God,  is  the  sacrifice  of  his  reason  to  his  faith." 
There  is  one  matter  strongly  to  recommend  the 
Catholic  religion,  which  is,  that  they  hold  to  the 
merit  of  good  works,  —  that  alms-giving  is  an  abso- 
lute duty;  and  I  believe  there  is  no  class  of  Chris- 
tians who  do  so  much  as  the  Catholics  for  the  relief 
of  the  poor  and  distressed. 

I  never  in  my  life  felt  so  much  the  value  of  Sun- 
day, as  since  I  have  been  in  Paris.  Throughout  the 
greater  part  of  the  city,  there  is  no  difference  between 
Sunday  and  any  other  day.  Business  and  pleasure 
go  on  with  the  same  activity  and  impetuosity  as  on 
any  other  day,  excepting  only  that  on  Sunday  after- 
noon many  of  the  shops  are  closed,  pleasures  are  a 
little  more  brisk,  and  the  streets  and  public  gardens 


188        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

and  public  places  are  all  crowded  with  human  beings, 
in  their  gayest  attire  and  most  cheerful  manners.  I 
hardly  know  how  many  of  them  live,  devoted  so  to 
business  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  days  in  the 
year. 

The  population  in  Paris  is  much  more  closely 
packed  than  in  London,  —  for,  though  London  con- 
tains, it  is  said,  two  mil-lions  of  people,  and  Paris 
twelve  hundred  thousand,  yet  in  London  they  are 
spread  over  a  much  greater  surface,  and  in  Paris  are 
at  least  seven  strata  deep. 

The  spring  is  at  present  backward  and  cold,  and 
we  had  some  snow  on  Friday ;  but  we  may  look  for 
favorable  weather  very  soon  and  the  rapid  progress  of 
vegetation. 

My  next  letters  will,  I  hope,  be  dated  from  Belgi- 
um. I  do  not  feel  very  happy  to  set  off  alone  upon 
an  expedition  through  countries  of  which  I  do  not 
know  one  word  of  the  language  ;  but  I  am  told  that 
English  is  often  spoken,  at  least  in  public  places,  and 
that  French  is  well  nigh  universal.  I  shall  make  no 
unnecessary  delay,  and  feel  most  anxious  now  to  be 
at  home. 

I  desired  you  in  my  last  to  call  on  Mrs.  S ,  as 

soon  as  you  hear  of  their  arrival,  and  thank  them  for 
their  kindness  to  me.  They  leave  Paris  with  the 
highest  respect  of  all  who  have  had  the  pleasure  of 
their  acquaintance.  It  is  impossible  people  should 
have  behaved  with  more  liberality  and  hospitality 
than  they  have  done,  without  the  slightest  attempt 
at  any  ostentatious  display.     Adieu. 


LETTER   CLVI.  189 


LETTER  CLVI. 

TO    MRS.    B . 

Paris,  13tli  April,  1847. 
My  Dear  Friend  : 

In  point  of  number  of  letters,  I  believe  you  are  in 
my  debt ;  in  point  of  value,  the  balance  is  on  the 
other  page  of  the  account,  and  I  am  irretrievably 
bankrupt.  I  wish  I  could  effectually  appeal  to  your 
generosity  ;  and  where  the  obligations  of  duty  do  not 
come  in  force,  try  to  get  something  out  of  that  disin- 
terested kindness  for  which  your  friends  give  you  so 
eminent  a  reputation.  Next  to  the  sight  of  a  friend, 
and  the  touch  of  a  friend,  and  the  hearing  of  the 
charming  voice  of  a  friend,  is  that  of  a  letter,  breath- 
ing only  love  and  good  will,  feeling  almost  warm  to 
the  touch,  and  making- the  heart  melt. 

I  am  about  once  more  to  tax  your  kindness.  I 
shall  give  a  letter  to  a  friend  of  mine,  who  goes  to 
London  this  week,  on  her  solitary  voyage.  She 
passed  through  Paris  to  Rome  in  December  last,  with 
her  husband,  in  pursuit  of  the  recovery  of  his  health, 
a  hopeless  errand,  for  there  she  has  left  him,  and  she 
returns  home  desolate.  He  was  bred  a  physician, 
and  being  a  man  of  fortune,  he  did  not  practise,  but 
devoted  himself  to  scientific  pursuits,  in  which  he 
became  eminent,  and  has  departed  with  the  universal 
regret,  and  as  he  lived,  with  the  universal  esteem  of 


190        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

those  who  knew  him.      I  wish  you  would  see  her ; 
she  would  feel  at  home  with  any  friends  of  mine. 

I  have  given  up  all  hopes  of  improvement  this  side 
of  the  grave  ;  what  chance  of  improvement  I  shall 
have  beyond  it,  I  wish  I  knew.  I  hope  for  the  best. 
Most  of  us  believe  we  get  some  light  upon  this  sub- 
ject from  the  Scriptures.  For  my  part,  I  have  not 
yet  found  it.  They  are  full  enough  as  to  the  cer- 
tainty of  a  future  life,  and  as  to  a  moral  retribution, 
but  they  teach  us  nothing  of  the  place  or  the  condi- 
tions. What  priests  inculcate,  and  what  multitudes 
believe  on  this  matter,  is  of  little  moment.  If  the 
next  world  is  as  good  as  this,  1  shall  be  very  well 
satisfied ;  if  it  is  better  than  this,  I  shall  be  much 
more  satisfied,  and  especially  if  it  brings  with  it  the 
power  of  improving  by  our  experience  here.  Yet  1 
do  not  know  that  we  should  take  advantage  of  that 
experience.  Few  men,  certainly,  take  advantage  of 
their  experience  here,  but  go  on  making  the  same 
mistakes  day  after  day,  tumbling  into  the  same  holes 
from  which  they  have  just  been  extracted  with  great 
difficulty,  even  before  the  mud  is  dry  upon  their 
clothes ;  and  resemble  the  poor  fly,  who,  after  his 
wings  have  been  singed  and  his  legs  burnt  off,  is 
seen  struggling  again,  somehow  or  other,  to  drag  his 
mutilated  body  into  the  blaze  of  the  candle. 

I  leave  for  Belgium,  by  the  first  week  in  May. 
Pray  let  me  hear  from  you  before  I  leave,  or  I  shall 
consider  my  own  letters  as  unwelcome,  and  take  the 
hint  to  hold  my  peace.  I  proceed  from  Belgium  to 
Germany  and  Switzerland,  and  thence  over  the  Alps. 

I  shall  have  a  feeling  of  home,  when   I  get  once 


LETTER  CLVIl.  191 

more  into  the  region  of  deep  snows  and  glittering 
ices.  Who  knows  that  I  shall  not  tumble  into  one 
of  the  deep  crevices  of  the  Glaciers,  to  be  melted  out 
in  a  state  of  extraordinary  preservation  sonie  centu- 
ries hence,  for  some  celebrated  Buckland  or  Murchi- 
son,  to  place  in  their  cabinets  as  a  specimen  of  the 
extraordinary  stature  of  the  men  who  existed  at  that 
distant  period.  What  a  curious  thing  it  would  be, 
if,  like  the  fly  which  Dr.  Franklin  speaks  of,  as 
corked  up  for  nearly  half  a  century  in  a  bottle  of  old 
Madeira,  I  could  wake  up  and  see  the  alterations 
which  have  passed  over  the  world,  and  the  progress 
and  improvements  by  which  society  will  have  been 
marked  at  that  time. 

I  had  rather  live  in  England  than  anywhere  else, 
abating  the  separation  of  those,  who,  according  to 
Scripture,  and  according  to  nature,  are  a  part  of 
myself;  though  in  point  of  beauty,  splendor,  mag- 
nificence, improvement,  public  order,  universal  ar- 
rangements and  method,  industry,  economy,  and 
sobriety,  Paris  is  eminently  distinguished.     Adieu. 


LETTER  CLVII. 

TO    MRS.    B . 

Paris,  14th  April,  1847. 
Mt  Deab  Friend: 

I  DESPATCHED  a  letter  to  you  this  morning,  and  in 

half  an  hour  after  it  had  gone,  I  had  the  gratification 


i9i  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

of  one  from  yourself,  and  one  from  E ,  both  most 

welcome.  At  the  same  time  I  forwarded  a  small 
parcel  to  your  address,  to  be  mailed  at  Folkestone,  to 
the  new  comer  at  Myddleton  Square.  I  hope  they 
will  duly  reach  their  destination.  I  shall  be  quite 
anxious  to  know  what  the  young  lady  thinks  of  the 
letter,  which  you  will  find  in  the  highest  style  of 
Oriental  imagery,  but  perhaps  not  the  less  true  for 
all  that.  I  sent  some  articles  for  housekeeping, 
thinking  it  not  impossible  that  she  might  take  after 
her  mother,  and  begin  to  think  of  marrying  and 
managing  as  soon  as  she  begins  to  think  of  any 
thing. 

So,  you  desire  an  account  of  my  Robinson  Crusoe 
life  in  Paris,  and  I  shall  proceed  to  give  it  to  you  in 
plain  prose,  premising  only  by  the  way  that  you 
seem  to  me  as  familiar  with  Parisian  phraseology,  as 
if  you  had  been  born  and  bred  au  septieme  of  a 
French  Hotel  Meuhle. 

I,  then,  Henry  Colman,  of  lawful  age,  a  citizen  of 
the  grand  Republic  of  the  United  States,  (hurrah  for 
the  thirteen  stripes  and  stars !)  and  for  many  years  a 
subject  of  her  royal  majesty,  Q,ueen  Victoria,  (God 
save  the  Queen!)  do  depose  and  say,  that  I  reside  in 
a  street  of  Paris  called  a  rue  Chaussee  D''Ajitin,L 
running  from  the  Boulevards  to  St.  Lazare,  straight 
as  an  arrow,  clean,  well  built,  full  of  fine  houses  and 
fine  shops,  and  magnificent  hotels  in  court  yards,  and 
crowded  from  early  dawn  to  late  at  night,  I  had 
almost  said  until  the  return  of  dawn,  with  carriages, 
chariots,  omnibuses,  chaises,  wheelbarrows,  ladies 
and  women,  (generally  very  handsome  indeed,)  milk- 


LETTER   CLVII. 


193 


maids,  lauudresses,  grisettes,  Lorettes,  chiflbniiiers, 
fashionables,  and  Normandise  with  their  butterfly 
caps  ;  in  short,  one  of  the  most  public,  and  one  of 
the  busiest,  and  one  of  the  pleasantest  streets  in  the 
town. 

I  am  in  the  fifth  story  —  the  lower  floor  is  not 
counted,  and  the  entresol,  or  second  floor,  is  not 
counted ;  I  am  au  quatrieme,  and  mount  six  flights 
of  stairs  to  reach  my  resting  place.  Being  fat  and 
"  pursy,"  and  having  very  short  legs,  you  may 
depend  upon  it  I  have  often  wished  for  some  elevat- 
ing machine,  by  which  the  summit  could  be  reached 
without  having  to  double  up  my  joints  one  hundred 
and  thirteen  times  —  for  that  is  the  number  of  stairs. 
Now  young  and  etherial  persons  like  yourself,  so  gay, 
so  transparent,  so  light  of  step,  would  go  up  like  a 
sparrow  a  whole  flight  at  a  time. 

From  my  eyrie-nest  I  look  down  upon  the  moving 
world  with  philosophic  composure,  and  breathe  an 
atmosphere  far  superior  to  the  grovelling  sons  of 
earth  below  me  —  (ask  the  chemists  if  it  is  not  so.) 
My  nest,  however,  is  very  small.  I  have  but  one 
small  room ;  three  good  closets  j  a  brick  floor,  which 
I  like,  because  it  saves  all  noise,  covered  with  a  thick 
carpet  ;  a  bed,  long  enough  if  I  don't  grow  an> , 
which  1  have  concluded  not  to  do  for  the  present ;  a 
chest  of  drawers,  surmounted  by  a  stuflfed  parrot  in  a 
glass  case,  who  looks  very  civilly  at  me,  and  says 
nothing,  though  I  feel  occasionally  quite  embarrassed 
at  the  closeness  of  his  inspection  ;  bed,  linen,  cover- 
ing, most  clean  and  excellent ;  an  open  fireplace,  with 
a  movable  grate,  which  I  purchased,  and  in  which  I 


VOL.    II. 


194         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

burn  dry  wood  and  good  coal :  three  easy  chairs,  and 
two  with  upright  backs,  which  I  prefer,  for  fear  of 
affecting  the  grace  of  my  movements  ;  and,  to  crown 
the  whole,  three  good-sized  mirrors — so  that,  you 
see,  I  am  never  without  company,  though  it  is  only 
the  reduplication  of  that  of  which  one  sample  is 
quite  sufficient  — ^^certainly  one  at  a  time. 

I  breakfast  in  my  own  chamber  at  nine  :  rise  at 
half-past  six ;  get  very  hungry  before  breakfast  comes. 
The  servant  brings  my  allowance  of  bread,  butter, 
and  cream.  I  boil  my  own  tea-kettle  ;  make  my  own 
tea;  buy  my  own  sugar,  candles,  6lc.;  have  the 
Daily  News  to  read  in  the  morning  —  which  some- 
times, on  account  of  the  ill-temper  which  it  shows 
towards  America  and  France,  obliges  me  to  put  more 
sugar  than  usual  in  my  tea. 

In  dishabille  I  wear  a  gray  frock  coat,  plaid  waist- 
coat, gray  trousers,  silk  neckcloth,  black  slippers,  oc- 
casionally varnished  ;  and  look  very  grave  and  wise, 
when,  raising  my  head  from  the  table,  I  let  my  spec- 
tacles drop  on  the  end  of  my  nose  and  comb  my  few 
straggling  gray  hairs  with  my  fingers,  presenting  in 
such  cases  a  very  fine  study  for  an  artist. 

I  have  a  man-servant  for  my  feme-de-cha?nbre  ;  at- 
tentive to  a  fault,  full  of  good  nature,  honest,  and  so 
willing  to  serve  me,  that  I  take  care  never  to  call  on 
him  for  what  I  can  do  myself,  and  sometimes  almost 
frighten  the  cap  off  his  head  by  my  frantic  gesticula- 
tions, when  I  cannot  make  him  understand  my 
French,  though  I  understand  it  perfectly  myself. 

I  stay  in  my  room,  extraordinaries  excepted,  always 
until  three  o'clock  ;  go  sight-seeing  ;  dine  at  an  Eng- 


LKTTER    CLVIl.  195 

lish  restaurant  at  five  —  can't  live  at  a  French 
cafe  —  dislike  the  French  cooking  —  don't  know 
whether  you  are  eating  frog,  cat,  or  baby  ;  evening 
with  friends  or  at  the  theatre,  rarely  at  home ; 
get  sleeply  at  eleven  ;  crawl  to  bed  at  twelve 
o'clock  ;  think  of  my  dear  friends  in  America  and 
England  ;  sigh  so  hard  as  almost  to  untuck  the 
bed  clothes ;  wish  them  all  kind  of  blessings  j 
fancy  I  see  them ;  never  knew  I  loved  them  half  so 
much  ;  pray  for  them,  and  dream  about  them  ;  sleep 
quietly  six  hours ;  try  not  to  let  the  sun  get  up  before 
me,  though,  I  confess,  to  my  shame,  1  sometimes 
find  him  peeping  into  my  chamber,  to  see  if  I  am 
awake  ;  feel  dreadfully  about  my  sins  always  when 
I  first  awake,  and  try  to  quiet  the  pangs  of  conscience 
by  a  strong  dose  of  good  resolutions  ;  think  again  of 
my  dear  friends  ;  thank  God  from  the  bottom  of  my 
soul  for  his  mercies ;  and  wonder  why  I  am  not  a 
poor,  miserable  outcast,  shivering,  starving,  naked 
Irishman,  or  beggar,  as  hundreds  of  others,  whose 
claims  seem  as  good  as  mine ;  and  am  amazed  that  I 
have  education,  character,  plenty  to  eat  and  drink,  so 
much  to  make  me  happy,  and,  above  all,  friends, 
friends  who  love  me,  but  who  canuot  love  me  half 
so  well  as  I  love  them.  But  this  won't  do.  I  open 
my  eyes ;  spring  out  of  bed :  take  my  cold  bath  ,• 
raise  the  window,  to  breathe  the  cordial  of  cordials, 
the  fresh  and  fragrant  air  of  the  morning ;  and  go 
again  to  a  succession  of  labors  and  enjoyments. 

I  could  not  afibrd  two  rooms.  I  pay  thirty-five 
francs  a  month,  and  ten  francs  for  service.  My 
breakfast  and  tea  cost  me  —  I  don't  know  what  — 


196         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

though  an  egg,  for  example,  is  five  sous,  and  a  small 
roll  of  bread,  of  which  one  can  eat  two,  costs  three 
sous.  Tea  is  dearer  than  in  England ;  sugar  and 
candles  cheaper ;  wood  is  sold  by  the  pound,  so  is 
coal,  and  both  are  dear,  though  my  fuel  has  not  cost 
me  more  than  in  England,  because  of  more  economy 
in  the  use  of  it ;  dinner  of  roast  beef,  potatoes,  apple- 
pie,  cheese,  bread,  and  half  a  bottle  of  wine  are  half 
a  crown. 

With  all  this,  Paris  is  not  home  to  me.  I  could 
have  formed  some  very  charming  acquaintances,  but 
I  did  not  dare. 

Now  what  an  extraordinary  letter,  you'll  say,  this 
is ;  the  old  fellow  's  in  his  dotage  and  as  garrulous  as 
if  he  was  eighty.  You  have  provoked  it.  Your 
husband  will  want,  with  good  reason,  to  know,  what 
is  to  become  of  the  housekeping,  if  such  letters  are 

to  be  read  and  answered.     Mr.  G B ,  that 

cynic  as  he  is,  like  all  other  bachelors,  crying  out 
sour  grapes  whenever  they  see  a  fine  cluster,  will  be 
for  congratulating  himself  that  he  is  monarch  of  all 
he  surveys,  and  has  no  wife  to  write  or  to  be  writ- 
ten to.  Be  it  so.  Submit,  my  good  friend,  with  all 
the  philosophy  you  can,  to  the  consequences  of  your 
own  misdoings,  and  believe  me  ever  faithfully  yours. 


LETTER    CLVIII.  197 


LETTER  CLVm. 

TO    MRS.    E.    P. 

Paris,  Uth  April,  1847. 
Mt  Dear  Friend: 

That  fault-finding  sister  of  yours  has  just  chosen 

to  reprove  me  for  not  having  written  to  Mr.  P , 

in  answer  to  his  vakied  letter.  Pray  what  business 
is  it  of  hers  ?  Has  she  the  care  of  the  public  morals? 
I'll  have  her  to  know  that  at  present  I  am  under  the 
government  of  another  sovereign,  and  that  none  of 
your  English  busy-bodies  has  any  thing  to  do  this 
side  of  the  channel.  I  have  written  to  you ;  one  of 
my  letters  crossed  his  on  the  way ;  are  not  you  and 

he  one  ?  don't  you  belong  to  the  same  firm  of  , 

Middleton  Square,  with  a  new  junior  partner  ?  If 
nothing  else  will  do,  then  understand  this  letter  as  to 
him;  and  if  that  will  not  do,  I'll  write  one  to  him 
especially,  full  of  private  conjidential  matter,  which 
I  shall  charge  him  not  to  show  to  you  under  any 
circumstances,  and  particularly  not  to  that  meddle- 
some sister  of  yours  —  looking  into  her  neighbor's 
windows,  peeping  into  every  drawer,  and  lifting  up 
the  top-crust  of  every  pie  she  comes  near.  Pray,  do 
you  have  to  apply  to  her  to  know  what  you  shall 
have  for  dinner,  and  whether  the  baby  shall  have  a 
blue  or  a  pink  ribbon  to  its  cap  ?  Only  think,  that 
impelled  by  her  inveterate  inquisitiveness,  she  has 
sent  me  as  many  questions  as  there  are  in  the  cate- 


198  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

chism,  to  know  where  I  live,  and  how  I  live,  and 
what  I  live  upon,  and  whether  my  slippers  were 
down  at  the  heel,  and  my  coat  out  at  the  elbows, 
and  my  blue  stockings  (for  I  was  always  very  blue, 
you  know)  were  darned  with  white  and  red  yarn. 
But  I  have  finished  her.  I  have  given  her  all  the 
particulars,  and  suggested  to  her  in  an  undertone, 
that  her  husband  will  be  wanting  to  know  what  will 
become  of  the  housekeeping  if  she  goes  on  at  this  rate. 

How  does  the  wife  of  Mr.  S P do  ?     I 

hear  you  never  were  handsomer  ;  never  were  hap- 
pier ;  never  appeared  so  well,  and  that  you  and  your 
husband  are  living  in  a  sort  of  Paradisaical  state,  such 
as  it  was  before  the  serpent  found  his  way  into  Eden. 
God  bless  you  both! — all  three  —  those  who  have 
come — all  who  may  yet  come  ;  and  in  the  beautiful 
language  of  the  Psalmist,  "  May  his  light  continue  to 
shine  into  your  tabernacle  "  and  make  it  radiant  with 
all  the  charms  of  the  happiest  domestic  love  and 
fidelity  and  harmony  and  mutual  respect  and  confi- 
dence, which  can  grow  and  flourish  upon  an  earthly 
soil. 

I  wrote  to  little  Miss  P ,  the  new  comer,  yes- 
terday ;  my  letter  went  this  morning  before  your 
kind  favor  reached  me  ;  what  do  you  think  of  that  ? 
the  very  end  of  December  making  love  to  the  first 
soft  morning  and  the  first  opening  flower  of  May.  I 
am  about  two  hundred  and  forty  times  as  old  as  she 
is.  Was  ever  such  a  correspondence  before  ?  I 
choose  to  call  it  a  correspondence,  because  if  those 
little  tiny  fingers  cannot  hold  a  pen,  I  expect  she 
will  at  once  employ  an  amanuensis. 


LETTER   CliVXI.  199 

I  have  not  much  to  say  of  myself.  It  was  very 
kind  in  you  to  have  a  place  reserved  for  me  at  your 
table,  but  if  you  will  have  one  in  your  heart,  be  it 
ever  so  small,  for  an  old  friend,  and  keep  it  full,  I 
shall  be  more  than  satisfied.  You,  I  see,  are  marry- 
ing and  giving  in  marriage.  Your  brother,  the  law- 
yer, and  Miss  N are  to  be  married,  and  this  in 

spite  of  the  hard  times.  As  to  lawyers,  however,  (do 
not  report  me,)  they  live  upon  the  crimes  and  mise- 
ries of  mankind.  The  law  is,  in  itself,  a  noble  pro- 
fession, designed  for  the  protection  of  society  ;  the 
suppression  of  crime  ;  the  vindication  of  innocence  ; 
the  defence  of  the  oppressed  and  helpless ;  the  eluci- 
dation of  truth ;  the  assertion  of  human  rights ;  the 
defiance  of  despotic  power.  There  are  advocates 
who  do  justice  and  honor  to  the  profession,  and  are 
the  benefactors  of  society  and  the  ornaments  of  hu- 
man nature  ;  but  often  the  great  and  noble  ends  of 
the  profession  are  perverted,  and  the  practice  becomes 
odious  and  unjust,  bent  wholly  upon  the  mystifica- 
tion of  truth,  the  security  and  escape  of  crime,  and 
sometimes  the  abuse  and  ruin  of  innocence.* 

*  LOBD  brougham's  EXPLANATION  OF  THE   DUTIES    OF  LEGAL   COUTI8EL, 
FROM  HIS  PUBLISHED  SPEECHES. 

In  the  defence  of  Queen  Caroline,  on  the  3d  October,  1820,  Mr.  (now 
Lord)  Brougham,  (according  to  the  editor  of  his  "  Speeches,"  published  at 
Edinburgh,  1838, Vol.  I.,  p.  105,)  said,  "  I  once  before  took  leave  to  remind 
your  lordships,  which  was  unnecessary,  but  there  are  many  to  whom  it 
may  be  needful  to  remind,  that  an  advocate,  by  the  sacred  duty  which  he 
owes  his  client,  knows  in  the  discharge  of  that  office  but  one  person  in 
the  world  —  thai  client  and  none  otiier.  To  save  that  client  by  all  expedient 
means;  to  protect  that  client  at  all  hazards  and  costs  to  all  others,  and 
among  others  to  himself,  is  the  highest  and  most  unquestioned  of  his 
duties ;  and  he  must  not  regard  the  alarm,  the  suffering,  the  torment, 
the  destruction,  which  he  may  bring  upon  any  other.    Nay,  separating 


200        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

Paris  is  full  of  objects  of  intense  interest.  It  is 
full  of  charitable  institutions,  and  of  ready  hearts  and 
hands  to  execute  the  dictates  of  benevolence.     Its 

even  the  duties  of  a  patriot  from  those  of  an  advocate,  and  casting  them, 
if  need  be,  to  the  wind,  he  must  go  on,  reckless  of  the  consequences,  if 
his  fate  it  should  unhappily  be  to  involve  his  country  in  confusion  for  his 
client's  protection!"  The  earnest  tone  of  this  profession,  the  talents 
and  authority  of  the  advocate,  the  greatness  of  the  occasion  which 
elicited  it,  demand  attention  to  it,  and  bespeak  some  latent  depth  in  these 
principles. 

Legal  Practice. — The  most  startling  instance  of  the  license  of  counsel 
that  we  can  remember,  almost  transcending  the  exploit  of  Mr.  Phillips 
in  the  defence  of  Courvoisier,  has  occurred  on  the  Northern  Circuit 
during  the  past  week,  if  the  reports  that  have  appeared  are  correct. 
Two  men,  Reid  and  M'Cabe,  were  put  upon  their  trial  for  the  murders 
committed  last  summer  at  Mirfield.  For  one  of  the  murders  Reid  had 
formerly  bsen  tried  and  acquitted.  M'Cabe  was  now  joined  as  an  ac- 
complice, on  evidence  that  went  to  show  his  having  been  seen  in  close 
conversation  with  Reid  soon  after  the  murder.  He  had  also  strengthened 
suspicion  against  himself,  by  his  own  confused  statements.  The  line  of 
defence  adopted  by  Reid's  counsel,  Mr.  Seymour,  was  to  charge  M'Cabe 
with  the  murder,  and  to  shift  it  by  a  very  ingenious  argument  from  oflF 
Reid's  shoulders  altogether.  Mr.  Justice  Patterson's  charge  was 
strongly  favorable  to  M'Cabe,  but  both  the  accused  were  found  guilty. 
It  then  immediately  transpired  that  before  the  trial  Reid  had  made  ample 
confession  of  the  details  of  the  murders  as  committed  by  himself  alone  ;  a 
confession  meeting  all  the  leading  points  of  the  evidence,  so  far  as 
M'Cabe  was  concerned,  but  wholly  exculpating  him  from  the  charge  ;  and 
that  this  confession  had  been  communicated  to  Mr.  Seymour,  Reid's  counsel, 
before  the  trial  came  on.  It  remains  to  be  seen  what  explanation  Mr. 
Seymour  can  give  for  having,  with  this  confession  in  his  possession, 
sought  to  brand  M'Cabe  with  the  giiilt  of  a  murder  which  he  knew  to 
have  been  committed  by  his  client. — London  Examiner,  Dec.  loth,  1847. 

KEFINEMENTS    OF  THE  LAW. 

A  trial  took  place  not  long  since  at  the  Old  Bailey,  of  a  man  who  had 
stolen  a  lady's  reticule  with  money  in  it,  from  her  arm,  in  the  street,  and 
was  arrested  in  attempting  to  escape.  The  facts  were  proved  ;  but  the 
indictment  charged  him  with  stealing  the  lady's  property,  but  as  it  was 
afterwards  shown  by  his  counsel  that  she  was  a  married  lady,  and  there- 
fore could  have  no  property  in  her  own  right,  he  was  discharged. 

EXQUISITE  HEFINEMENTS   OF  THE   iAW. 

Western  Circuit,  July  20th. 
George  Janes,  indicted  for  maliciously  wounding  and  maiming  a  horse. 
The  horse  was  restive ;  he  got  off,  palled  out  the  horse's  tongue,  cut  off 


LETTER    CLVIII. 


201 


hospitals  are  patterns  of  excellent  management.  I  go 
to  see  its  prisons  next  week ;  a  rare  permission,  sel- 
dom accorded  to  any  stranger  —  not  a  pleasant  ser- 
vice, but  one  full  of  interest.  I  visited  last  week  a 
school  for  idiots  and  epileptics.  What  is  the  use  of 
educating  such  subjects  ?  you  will  ask.  The  effect 
has  been  to  raise  hundreds  of  poor  creatures  from  a 
condition  of  the  deepest  degradation,  filth,  squalid- 
ness,  and  bestiality,  to  a  condition  of  cleanliness, 
comfort,  and  order,  and  to  open  to  these  poor  be- 
nighted creatures,  sources  of  enjoyment,  interest,  and 
occupation,  in  dancing,  singing,  playing,  working  at 
trades,  drawing  and  painting,  in  all  of  which,  I  my- 
self, with  an  amazement  and  gratitude  which  wholly 
unmanned  me,  saw  that  they  had  made  considerable 

four  or  five  inches  of  it,  as  was  supposed,  by  wearing  it  against  a  sharp 
tooth,  and  then  threw  it  in  the  horse's  face.  The  horse  had  recovered, 
and  the  only  difficulty  was,  that  he  could  not  eat  corn  as  well  as  another 
horse. 

The  attorney  contended  that  it  was  not  a  case  to  go  to  the  jury.  The 
evidence  showed  no  wounds  in  the  count  for  wounding,  inasmuch  as  the 
prisoner  had  used  no  instrument ;  and  it  had  been  held  that  an  injury 
was  not  a  wounding  unless  inflicted  with  some  instrument,  so  that  where 
a  party  had  bit  off  the  finger  of  another,  the  judges  decided  that  it  was 
not  a  wounding  in  the  statute.  He  also  contended  that  it  was  not  a 
maiming  under  the  statute,  for  two  reasons  ;  first,  in  order  to  maim  a 
horse,  it  was  necessary  that  an  injury  should  be  done  to  some  member, 
and  therefore  it  was  no  maiming  ;  and  secondly,  it  was  proved  that  the 
horse  was  none  the  worse  for  the  injury,  and  it  had  been  decided  that  in 
order  to  constitute  a  maiming,  the  injury  must  be  a  permanent  one. 

Mr.  Bevan,  for  the  prosecution,  gave  up  the  count  for  wounding,  but 
contended  that  it  was  a  good  count  under  the  maiming,  and  he  cited  a 
case  where  it  had  been  decided  that  pouring  vitriol  into  a  horse's  eyes 
was  maiming  by  the  statute. 

Mr.   Justice   Wightraan,  having  consulted  Mr.   Justice    Patterson, 

decided  that  the  objection  with  regard  to  maiming  was  not  good ;  but  the 

second  objection  was  fatal,  there  being  no  permanent  injury  (!!!!)     The 

prisoner  was  therefore  ACQUITTED.— Froip  tte  Tinyet  qf  Jidif  22d,  1844. 

TOl,.  9* 


202        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

proficiency,  and  I  may  say,  in  some  cases,  had  at- 
tained to  a  degree  of  excellence.  That,  then,  is  the 
blessed  use  of  it.     Yours  truly. 


LETTER  CLIX. 

COLMAN's    MESSENGER. 

Paris,  27th  April,  1847.     (Price  one  franc.  —  No.  I.) 
To  Mhs.  M : 

Departures.     H.  S ,  Esq.  and  lady,  (the  other 

side  of  the  water  he  is  the  Hon.  H.  S ,  but  re- 
publican titles  are  not  current  here,)  for  England,  to 
the  great  regret  of  those  whom  they  have  left  behind. 
Two  intimate  friends  accompanied  them  to  the  rail- 
road, heard  the  mutterings  and  whistling  of  the  en- 
gine, which  went  through  them  like  so  many  shocks 
from  an  electric  machine,  and  saw  the  last  risings  of 
the  curling  clouds  of  smoke,  as  the  companions  of 
the  -prophet  saw  his  ascension,  with  some  pretty 
strong  sighs,  and  wishes  that  they  could  be  the  com- 
panions of  the  voyage  of  these  kind  friends  in  the 
same  fiery  chariot.  There  was  a  faithful  and  de- 
voted servant,  a  woman  of  fine  feelings,  present,  who 
became  quite  liquid  on  the  occasion ;  one  of  the 
friends,  who  mingled  with  his  exquisite  sympathy  in 
the  case  a  grateful  sentiment  of  the  aid  which  he  had 
derived  from  this  gentle  creature's  instructions,  could 
not  help  exclaiming,  in  a  compassionate  tone,  *'  poor 
girl !  poor  girl !  "  He  has  seldom  been  seen  so  much 
moved.     The  other  friend  seemed  quite  at  a  loss  to 


LETTEK    CLIX.  203 

know  where  he  should  go  next  to  get  a  generous  and 
balmy  cup  of  tea, — balmy  and  generous  alike  to  the 
imagination  and  taste,  as  to  the  senses.  The  afflicted 
trio  returned  to  their  houses  quite  disconsolate,  and 
are  said  to  remain  so.  It  will  be  seen  what  the  Fete 
de  Roi  will  do  for  them  on  Saturday  next. 

Vague    and    Slanderous    Reports.       There    has 

been  much  speculation  as  to  the  cause  of  Mr.  S 's 

indisposition,  and  there  is  a  sort  of  undercurrent  still 
going  on  in  the  gossiping  community.  Most  people 
attribute    it  to   the  extraordinary  conduct    of    Mrs. 

S ,  who  has  been  spending  a  large  fortune,  and 

buying  up  half  the  milliners'  and  silk  shops  in 
Paris, — and  who  is  expected  to  come  out  in  Boston 
with  an  ostrich-plume  upon  her  bonnet,  and  two 
birds  of  paradise  upon  her  breast  and  shoulders,  — 
and  who  seems  bent  upon  going  back  at  least  twenty- 
five  years  in  her  style  of  dress  and  manners,  if  that 
would  leave  her  any  sensible  existence  ;  such  is  the 
effect  of  the  Parisian  atmosphere  of  taste  and  fashion. 

The  old  gentleman,  the   Hon.  Mr.  S ,  being  all 

ways  a  man  of  quiet  and  modest  habits,  is  distressed 
at  the  idea  of  his  lady's  appearing  in  Boston  like  one 
of  the  most  brilliant  Jdly  fireworks.  If  she  has  been 
a  Catholic,  there  might  have  been  some  hope  of 
operating  upon  her  through  her  confessor  ;  but,  being 
rather  a  free  thinker,  and  independent  in  her  way, 
the  evil  must  be  left  to  work  its  own  cure. 

Others  conjecture  that  Mr.  S 's  illness  is  pro- 
bably attributable  to  remorse  of  conscience  for  some 
raal-practice  at  the  bar,  in  which  he  "  ate  up  some 
widow's~  house,"  or  "  took  away  the  key  of  know!- 


204  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

edge,"  or  got  some  innocent  man  hung  in  order  to 
screen  the  guilty  —  the  latter  being  the  particular 
province  and  study  of  some  gentlemen  of  the  legal 
profession.  We  believe  both  of  these  suppositions  are 
radically  unsound. 

Events  of  the  Week.  A  perfect  uproar  in  Paris 
on  Sunday.  Horse-races  on  the  Champ  de  Mars  ;  and 
many  jockies  and  sportsmen  mourning  their  losses, 
and  drinking  champagne.  The  banks  or  glacis  of 
the  field  presented  a  perfect  packed  mass  of  human  life. 

Extraordinary  Experiments.      In  the  faubourg 

St.  Germain,  Mr.  C.  H gave  an  entertainment 

to  his  friends  by  the  exhibition  of  Alexis,  the  mes- 
merized boy.  Many  wonderful  things  were  done, 
many  experiments  were  left  unfinished  and  in  frag- 
ments,  and    the   results   were    as  equivocal    as   the 

Delphic  Oracle.     Mr.  O wished  only  "  a  general 

view."  He  had  seen  such  things  before,  and  he 
thought  it  was  to  be  perfectly  accounted  for  by  sup- 
posing the  mind  able  to  act  entirely  without  and 
independent  of  the  senses.  He  considered  this  theory 
established,  and  that  it  explained  every  thing  which 
was  otherwise  mysterious  ;  but  his  sea-line,  however 
deep  and  however  skilfully  cast,  did  not  quite  reach 
soundings.  The  earth  rests  upon  the  back  of  an  ele- 
phant, the  elephant  stands  upon  a  large  tortoise,  — 
but  what  does  the  tortoise  stand  upon  ?  The  audi- 
ence were  much  gratified,  especially  with  the  ice- 
creams and  the  chicken  salad,  the  oysters  and  the 
chablis. 

Editorial.  The  editor  sends  his  first  number 
with  a  good  deal  of  difiidence  to  his  distant   sub- 


LETTER    CLX.  206 

scribers  and  friends.  It  is  a  great  experiment,  and 
he  hopes  that  at  least  some  other  publishers  will 
agree  to  an  exchange. 

To  Correspondents  and  Others.  Wanted  — 
The  latest  and  freshest  London  news,  and  particu- 
larly a  Court  Circular,  with  a  full  account  of  the  pre- 
sentations and  receptions,  and  where  the  Court  is 
held. 


LETTER  CLX. 
colman's  messenger. 

Paris,  3d  May,  1847.     [Price  one  franc.  —  No.  II.) 
To  Mrs.  M : 

Editorial.  We  cannot  help,  even  at  the  risk  of 
being  charged  with  egotism  and  vanity,  expressing 
the  satisfaction  with  which  we  have  learned  that  our 
first  number  was  well  received  on  the  other  side  of 
the  channel.  The  good  opinion  of  the  wise  and  in- 
telligent is  a  great  encouragement  to  novitiates  in 
any  important  and  before-untried  enterprise.  We 
shall  wait  to  learn  the  success  of  this  second  number, 
before  we  can  confidently  assure  our  readers  of  a 
continuance  of  our  publication. 

The  season  is  advancing,  not  rapidly  but  grad- 
ually. Sombre  April  has  retired,  rather  in  an  unac- 
customed ill-humor,  and  has  left  few  to  regret  her 
departure.  She  was  sometimes  seen  weeping,  and 
there  was  a  chilliness  in  her   manner   that  almost 


206        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

repelled  one  from  offering  a  hand  to  her  the  second 
time.  In  general  she  is  gay  and  cheerful  ;  and 
though  in  her  best  season  she  is  often  found  in  tears, 
yet  they  are  usually  tears  of  joy,  and  the  drops  are 
seen  glittering  in  the  clear  sunshine.  Perhaps  there 
was  some  sympathy  on  her  part,  at  this  time,  with 
the  public  mind,  which,  under  Irish  famines,  and 
general  scarcity  and  food-riots,  and  financial  crises, 
has  presented  any  thing  but  an  aspect  of  cheerful- 
ness and  hope.  April,  however,  has  done,  we  under- 
stand, all  that  could  ordinarily  be  expected  of  her,  in 
forwarding  the  young  grain,  and  encouraging  the 
labors  of  spring ;  with  what  success,  at  present  no 
human  sagacity  can  decide.     Nous  verrons. 

May  has  made  a  most  graceful  debut,  but  has  not 
yet  adjusted  her  toilet,  though  she  appears  very  busy 
about  it.  She  seems,  very  unnaturally,  we  admit, 
to  have  caught  a  little  of  the  repulsiveness  of  April, 
and  is  rather  cold  in  her  manners.  But  all  this  is 
evidently  quite  out  of  character ;  and  when  she  does 
smile,  and  scatters  a  few  flowers  and  bouquets  about 
her,  we  recognize,  with  overpowering  delight,  the 
same  charming  expression,  which  so  won  and  en- 
chanted our  susceptible  hearts  in  youth,  and  even  in 
early  childhood.  We  call  to  mind,  with  rapture, 
those  buoyant  days,  when  we  rose  before  the  peep 
of  dawn,  and  brushed  the  glittering  dew  with  om 
feet,  that  we  might  meet  and  welcome  her  at  the 
very  annunciation  of  a  name,  which  thrilled  so  many 
gentle  hearts  with  ecstacy.  Where  she  pressed  the 
ground  with  her  noiseless  footsteps,  there  the  rusty, 
grass  became  changed  into  a  beautiful  green.     She 


LETTER   CLX.  207 

breathed  upon  the  leafless  trees,  and  their  dried  and 
withered  frames  were  at  once  covered  with  the  finest 
drapery  which  nature  could  weave  for  them  ;  she 
shook  from  her  lap  oceans  of  flowers,  of  every  hue 
and  odor ;  and  the  earth,  radiant  with  every  form  of 
vegetable  beauty,  became  at  once  changed,  not  into 
a  poetical,  but  a  real  paradise.  We  cannot,  thank 
God,  complain  that  age  has  extinguished  or  even 
blunted  any  of  those  charming  sensibilities  ;  and  we 
watch  the  advances  of  May,  in  her  miraculous  trans- 
formations, with  all  the  enthusiasm  with  which  the 
young  bridegroom  leads  the  object  of  his  love,  in  her 
robes  of  beauty,  with  her  snow-white  veil  concealing 
her  maiden  blushes,  and  floating  loosely  upon  her 
shoulders,  and  a  single  diamond  sparkling  upon  her 
breast,  to  the  altar  where  he  is  to  claim  her  for  his 
own. 

Events  of  the  Week.  Paris  on  the  qui  vive. 
The  first  of  May,  the  birthday  of  the  king,  a  brilliant 
sunshine  ;  hundreds  of  thousands  crowding  every 
avenue,  filling  every  voiture  ;  theatres,  shows,  games, 
athletic  prizes,  music,  dancing,  light  hearts,  active 
limbs,  and  cheerful  faces  ;  in  the  evening  a  splendor, 
variety,  and  magnificence  of  fireworks,  (much  too 
vulgar  a  word  for  these  forms  of  celestial  glory,) 
combining  every  element  of  beauty,  and  which  no 
language  can  properly  describe,  and  no  poetry  can 
exaggerate. 

Sunday.  We  learn  from  a  correspondent,  that  the 
races  in  the  Champs  de  Mars  were  witnessed  by 
thousands,  and  attended  with  that  high  and  violent 
excitement  which  a  powerful   emulation,  stimulated 


208        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

by  valuable    prizes,   never    fails   to    produce.     Mr. 

B and  Mr.  J ,  who  were    present,  confirm 

this  statement. 

Miscellaneous.     We  learn  that  our  friends,  Mr. 

and  Miss  J ,  return  to   the  United  States  in  the 

steamer  of  the  19th  of  June.  Heaven  send  these 
kind  people  prosperous  gales. 

The  editor,  on  Saturday,  visited  the  Barriere  du 
Trone,  a  spot  memorable  for  its  affecting  associations, 
both  of  a  rejoicing  and  a  sombre  character.  This 
place  presents  one  of  the  most  interesting  and  beau- 
tiful spots  in  Paris.  Multitudes  suffered  here  in  the 
great  revolution,  and  it  is  the  place  of  deposit,  in  a 
common  grave,  of  the  bodies  of  two  thousand  of  the 
devout  and  brave  nonjuring  priests,  who  fell  victims 
to  a  sanguinary  butchery,  for  which  language  scarcely 
affords  a  name.  All  these  sombre  associations  had 
passed  away  like  flying  clouds,  and  left  a  clear  sky. 
The  place  was  now  full  of  frolic  and  fun,  and  hun- 
dreds were  attempting  to  climb  a  high  pole  or  mast, 
smooth  and  besmeared  with  grease,  on  which  were 
suspended  watches  and  trinkets,  as  the  rewards  of 
the  successful  climber.  The  falls,  in  the  attempt, 
were  frequent,  and  called  forth  loud  peals  of  laughter 
and  uproar,  affording  many  a  wholesome  lesson  on 
the  toils  and  uncertainties  of  ambition. 

New  Method  of  Philosophical  Analysis.  The 
value  of  this  discovery  is  very  great,  as  it  shows  how 
much  may  be  accomplished  in  the  shortest  possible 
time,  and  how  the  wonders  of  the  electric  telegraph 
may  be  rivalled,  and  the  knowledge  of  all  times  and 
places  be  acquired  without  leaving  our  own  firesides. 


LETTER   CLX.  209 

He,  the  editor,  visited  in  the  above  neighborhood, 
the  simple  tomb  of  the  great  and  good  friend  of 
America,  La  Fayette.  He  had,  on  this  occasion,  the 
honor  of  a  friend's  company,  who  was  peculiarly 
rapid  and  impatient  in  his  movements,  and  wished 
only  to  take  a  general  survey  of  objects,  as  they  pre- 
sented themselves  ;  and,  with  a  real  imperial  energy 
and  quickness,  it  was  with  him  nothing  but  •'  Fern, 
Vidi,  Vici! "  It  is  an  extraordinary  gift,  when 
every  thing  can  be  instantaneously  comprehended, 
and  there  is  none  of  the  plodding  application,  which 
impedes  the  progress  of  vulgar  minds.  He  had 
scarcely  cast  his  eye  upon  the  tomb  of  La  Fayette, 
when  he  said  he  had  seen  enough  ;  he  could  not  stop 
to  read  epitaphs,  and  was  out  of  the  cemetery  at  once, 
ready  for  new  discoveries.  This  is  a  great  trium])h 
of  philosophy,  and  shows  the  wonderful  powers  of 
mialysis  —  for  what  is  a  monument  but  a  stone; 
what  is  a  stone  but  an  agglomeration  of  particles  of 
cortimon  sand  ;  what  is  an  epitaph  but  the  arrange- 
ment of  certain  letters  ?  There  are  only  twenty-six 
letters  in  the  alphabet.  We  knew  them  all  more 
than  fifty  years  ago.  What  was  there  at  all  curious 
in  seeing  these  letters  scratched  upon  a  stone  ?  And 
this  is  the  sage  philosophy  by  which  so  much  is  to 
be  accomplished.  How  simple  are  the  mental  opera- 
tions of  even  the  greatest  minds. 

We  beg  our  correspondents  not  to  forget  us.  Their 
letters  are  charming.  To  be  sure  they  are  only  cot- 
ton and  ink  —  mere  paper  scratched  over,  by  dipping 
a  spider's  legs  in  a  black  liquid,  and  telling  him  to 
make  his  way.     But  there  are  some  minds,  —  poor, 


210        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

simple  souls  —  who  find  even  in  these  characters 
something  to  charm  the  memory,  to  delight  the  im- 
agination, and  to  warm  the  heart ;  the  philosophy  of 
our  friend  to  the  contrary,  notwithstanding. 


LETTER  CLXI. 

Paris,  30th  May,  1847. 
My  Dsa.k  a : 

1  PRESUME,  such  a  particular  and  punctual  lady  as 
you  are,  remembers  that  you  have  not  written  to 
your  old  father  for  some  time ;  very  old  he  has 
grown,  I'll  assure  you,  and  a  miserable  exile  he  finds 
himself ;  solitary  enoiigh,  in  the  midst  of  thousands 
and  hundreds  of  thousands,  so  thick  that  you  cannot 
pass  the  streets  without  being  jostled ;  seeing  every 
body  but  the  few  whom  his  heart  is  almost  breaking 
to  see  ;  yearning  after  an  unattainable  good  ;  doing 
what  he  can,  yet  never  doing  half  what  he  wishes  to 
do  ;  and  forming  plans,  the  accomplishment  of  which 
would  occupy  three  lives  instead  of  one.  You'll 
say,  perhaps,  this  is  all  wrong,  and  the  addition  of  a 
decade  to  half  a  century,  should  at  least  have  read 
some  lessons  on  the  folly  of  ambition,  and  the  vanity 
of  human  wishes,  which  should  have  given  more 
sobriety  and  a  more  just  estimate  of  human  power 
and  opportunities.  Perhaps  so  ;  and  perhaps  if  I  had 
been  as  wise  as  most  men,  at  fifty  years  old,  I  should 
have  laid  aside  my  work,  put  on  my  gown  and  slip- 
pers, settled  myself  down  in  some   arm  chair,  and 


LETTER    CLXI.  211 

resolved  to  pass  a  gossiping,  drivelling  old  age, 
instead  of  launching  my  bark  upon  an  untried  ocean, 
and  sailing  out  for  the  discovery  of  a  new  world. 
But  it  did  not  rest  with  me  to  choose.  I  could  not 
stop  when  I  would.  My  nature  craves  excitement ; 
my  curiosity  grows  by  what  it  feeds  upon  ;  my  am- 
bition was  never  so  deeply  excited ;  I  think  I  never 
had  within  my  reach  so  much  the  power  of  doing 
good  ;  I  seem  now  to  live  a  week  in  a  day ;  I  be- 
grudge the  time  for  my  meals  and  my  sleep  ;  I  see 
how  little  I  ever  knew  before  ;  I  see  how  much  is  to 
be  learned  now  ;  I  have  plans  which  I  wish  to  accom- 
plish ;  edifices  to  erect,  of  which  the  plan  is  formed, 
for  which  the  foundation  is  laid,  and  the  materials 
collected  ;  life  never  appeared  to  me  half  so  beauti- 
ful, nor  half  so  valuable.  The  mind  can  only  be  in 
a  healthy  when  it  is  in  an  active  state,  and  it  is  bet- 
ter by  desiring  to  do  much,  to  accomplish  a  little, 
than  by  desiring  to  do  little  to  accomplish  nothing. 
I  have  not  an  exalted  opinion  of  what  any  man  can 
do.  Many  men,  considered  in  reference  to  their  own 
powers  and  opportunities,  do  much  ;  but  considered 
in  reference  to  what  is  to  be  done,  few  men  can  be 
said  to  do  any  thing.  Napoleon,  with  a  larger  polit- 
ical power  than  perhaps  ever  before  fell  to  the  lot  of 
any  individual,  has  left  comparatively  iew  traces 
behind  him  of  that  which  one  would  wish  to  remem- 
ber ;  yet  every  man  may  do  something  ;  the  great 
sum  of  good  is  made  up  of  individual  contributions  ; 
and  sometimes  it  happens,  that  the  seed  dropped 
from  the  hand  of  the  humblest  sower,  long  after  he 
has  departed,  becomes  a  tree,  in  which  the  birds  of 


218        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

heaven  find  shelter  and  repose.  I  do  not  know,  then, 
any  other  rule  than  to  labor  ;  to  labor  while  we  live  ; 
this  is  in  truth,  living  while  we  live ;  and  to  thank 
God  by  the  diligent  use  of  life,  while  any  power  of 
exertion  remains. 

I  sat  down  to  give  you  a  letter,  and  I  have  given 
you  a  moral  disquisition.  The  room  that  is  left  shall 
be  occupied  with  diflferent  matter.  I  returned  to 
Paris  last  evening  from  a  visit  to  the  country,  to  some 
of  the  best  cultivated  parts  of  it ;  and  took  advantage 
of  the  opportunity  to  visit  Fontaiubleau.  I  had  been 
told  by  several  persons,  that  I  should  find  more  to 
admire  there  than  at  any  other  place.  After  seeing 
St.  Cloud  and  Versailles,  I  did  not  believe  it  possi- 
ble ;  but  my  expectations  have  been  altogether  sur- 
passed. The  exterior  of  the  Chateau  presents  a  most 
ordinary  and  rather  decayed  appearance,  and  never 
could  have  been  handsome.  It  seems  to  be  a  mass 
of  buildings,  formed  by  different  successive  architects ; 
each  of  whom  proceeded  with  little  regard  to  what 
had  been  done  by  others.  But  the  interior,  for  its 
magnificence  and  splendor,  is  superior  to  any  thing 
that  I  have  seen.  The  park  and  the  gardens  are 
beautiful  beyond  any  description  which  I  can  give  ; 
and  the  forest  through  which  we  rode  several  miles, 
for  the  purpose  of  seeing  the  cultivation  of  the  finest 
grapes  in  the  world,  containing,  little  short  of  sixty 
thousand  acres,  is  magnificent.  Many  persons,  who 
go  to  these  places,  and  many  of  whom  have  hardly 
been  out  of  the  smoke  of  their  own  chimneys,  will 
tell  you,  with  great  self-complacency,  "  Well,  this  is 
the  handsomest  place  I  ever  saw  in  my  life."     In 


LETTER    CLXI.  213 

order  to  determine  the  value  of  such  an  eulogium,  we 
need  then  to  know  where  they  have  lived  and  what 
they  have  seen.  I  have  seen  more  than  some,  but 
not  half  so  much  as  many- people  ;  but  all  I  choose 
to  say  of  Fontainbleau  and  Versailles,  and  St.  Cloud 
is,  that  I  never  conceived  of  any  places  so  beautiful  j 
I  did  not  know  that  human  taste  and  genius,  and  art, 
could  so  adorn  and  embellish  nature  herself. 

People  are  disposed  to  ask,  what  is  the  use  of  all 
this?  The  king  cannot  occupy  all  these  places. 
Why  should  so  much  labor  be  expended  ?  Why 
should  so  much  money  be  thrown  away  ?  I  am  not 
prepared  to  admit  that  it  is  wasted  or  thrown  away. 
Perhaps  it  might  have  been  better  appropriated.  I 
agree  to  this.  But  then  it  might  have  been  much 
worse  used.  The  money  has  not  been  thrown  away. 
There  is  not  a  dollar  less  than  there  was  when  the 
works  were  begun  ;  but  it  has  been  scattered.  It 
has  been  used  to  reward  labor,  to  stimulate  genius,  to 
encourage  art  and  refine  the  public  taste  ;  and  it  now 
remains,  and  for  ages  to  come  will  continue  to  be,  a 
source  of  infinite  admiration  and  pleasure  to  the 
thousands  and  tens  of  thousands,  nay,  to  the  millions, 
who  are  freely  admitted  to  contemplate  it,  to  walk 
in  its  gardens  and  to  enjoy  the  freedom,  the  shade, 
the  wildness,  the  retirement  of  its  forests.  The  man 
does  a  great  deal  of  good  who  does  what  he  can  to 
multiply  in  the  world  the  objects  and  forms  of 
beauty.  The  pleasures  of  the  eye  are  among  the 
most  innocent  and  the  richest  in  nature.  Here  ends 
my  sermon,  but  my  love  to  you  and  yours  never ;  no 
paper  could  contain  it.     Adieu. 


214  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 


LETTER  CLXII. 

Paris,  30th  May,  1847. 
Mt  Dear  M : 

I  KNOW  you  will  be  surprised  at  the  date  of 
another  letter  from  this  place,  but  I  have  not  been 
stationary.  I  have  been  visiting  the  country  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Paris,  and  have  arranged  every  thing 
to  take  my  final  departure  this  week  for  Belgium  and 
Holland.  Mr.  Green  and  others  advised  me  by  no 
means  to  go  there  before  the  first  of  June,  and  the 
Count  de  Gourcy,  whose  attentions  have  been  most 
kind,  has  taken  me  to  several  agricultural  establish- 
ments in  the  country,  which  have  been  highly 
interesting  and  instructive.  At  first  I  thought  I 
should  find  nothing  in  French  Agriculture,  at  least 
not  much  which  was  worthy  of  attention,  but  my 
opinion  has  undergone  a  change,  and  I  begin  to  think 
their  agriculture,  in  some  respects,  not  only  good,  but 
advanced.  They  do  not  grow  the  same  productions 
as  in  England  ;  their  work  is  not  executed  in  so  neat 
a  manner ;  their  implements  are  primitive  and  some- 
what rude  ;  their  neat-stock  is  less  improved ;  and, 
indeed,  the  whole  system  is  different ;  but  I  am  dis- 
posed to  believe  that  their  farming  is  more  economi- 
cal, and  that,  taken  as  a  whole,  the  condition  of  the 
laboring  classes  is  superior  to  that  of  the  English. 
The  country,  as  far  as  I  have  seen,  is  beautiful  ;  and 
though  the  French  villages  are  not  picturesque  at  all, 


LETTER    CLXit  215 

more  resembling  the  streets  of  cities  than  the  coun- 
try, yet  they  are  more  cleanly  than  the  Scotch, 
and  the  people  universally  well-dressed,  distinguished 
for  their  sobriety,  and  everywhere  polite  and  well- 
behaved. 

I  do  not  deem  it  best  to  anticipate  what  I  shall 
hereafter  say,  but  I  have  now  a  strong  confidence  of 
finding  ample  materials  for  a  work  on  Continental 
Agriculture,  of  value  and  practical  use  ;  and  as  much 
less  is  known  of  it,  as  many  of  the  works  relating  to 
it  are  locked  up  in  a  foreign  tongue,  I  hope  it  will  be 
read  with  the  more  interest. 

Paris  is  constantly  fully  charged  with  Americans, 
with  many  of  whom  I  am  not  acquainted,  though  I 
know  them  almost  immediately  in  public  places  and 
in  the  streets  from  their  looks  and  manners.  I  do 
not  mean  to  say  whether  the  indications  of  their 
country  are  to  their  credit  or  not,  but  they  are  as 
easily  recognized  as  an  Irishman  or  a  Frenchman  in 
our  country.  I  did  not  believe  this  at  first,  though 
I  had  often  heard  it  remarked,  but,  after  a  few  years 
residence  abroad,  I  became  convinced  of  it.  The 
American  ladies,  however,  are  not  so  readily  distin- 
guished from  English  as  the  men,  but  English  and 
American  are  never  confounded  with  the  French.  I 
do  not  consider  myself  as  any  exception  from  the 
general  fact.     Adieu. 


216        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 


LETTER  CLXIII. 

Paris,  30th  May,  1847. 
My  Dear  S : 

To-day  I  have  been  obliged  to  keep  my  chamber, 
and  though  there  is  in  the  street  a  constant  uproar, 
which  seems  like  the  combined  noise  of  a  thousand 
factories,  yet  I  have  hardly  looked  out  of  my  win- 
dow, and  have  let  the  busy  world  go  on  as  it  will 
without  mingling  in  the  stream  ;  ah  !  what  a  stream 
—  what  a  torrent — what  a  flood  of  human  life! 
bubbling,  gushing,  rushing,  and  flowing,  eternally, 
mixed  with  all  sorts  of  objects  floating  in  the  current ; 
and  not  inanimate  objects,  not  mere  uprooted  trees 
and  timber  and  cakes  of  ice,  like  the  breaking  up  of 
one  of  our  great  rivers  in  the  spring,  but  living  crea- 
tures, moral  beings,  with  minds  each  a  world  in 
itself,  crowded  with  purposes  of  ambition,  or  dreams 
of  wealth,  or  thoughts  of  display,  or  visions  of 
felicity,  or  thoughts  of  mischief,  or  sad  reminis- 
cences, or  recollections  of  departed  joys,  or  fears  of 
impending  evil,  or  perceptions  of  utter  solitude  in  the 
midst  of  crowds,  and  of  absolute  friendlessness  in  the 
throng  of  all  that  is  gay  and  rich  and  cheerful  and 
prosperous  and  luxurious  ;  old  and  young,  peasant 
and  prince,  noble  and  ignoble,  the  beggar  and  the 
prodigal,  and  a  variety  of  character,  figure,  condition, 
and  person,  which  it  would  be  as  vain  to  attempt  to 
describe  as  to  paint  the  colors  of  the  most  rapidly 


LETTER    CXiri. 


217 


changing  sky.  We  have  a  great  deal  yet  to  learn 
about  this  affair  which  we  call  the  world,  human 
society,  and  human  life  ;  but  when  our  curiosity  is 
to  be  satisfied,  must  be  left  only  with  Him  to  whom 
all  things  are  known. 

I  came  to  Paris,  determined  to  see  of  it  what  I 
could.  To  talk  of  seeing  Paris  in  a  fortnight,  or  a 
month,  is  as  idle  as  to  talk  of  knowing  the  people  in 
the  moon.  Imagination  may  supply,  as  in  the  cele- 
brated lunar  hoax,  what  knowledge  or  observation 
have  not  acquired  ;  but  such  accounts,  however  much 
they  may  delight  the  fancy,  cannot  be  regarded  even 
with  a  grain  of  confidence.  The  guide-books  divide 
the  excursions  in  Paris  into  ten  days  of  sight-seeing, 
and  the  ordinary  round  is  the  Louvre,  Notre-Dame, 
the  Pantheon,  Versailles,  St.  Cloud,  the  Madeleine, 
St.  Eustache,  and  a  few  of  the  great  places.  These 
are  all  worth  seeing,  but  many  of  them  are  in  them- 
selves, the  Louvre  for  example,  a  study  for  months. 
All  these  objects  I  have  looked  at,  and  all  of  them 
have  had  a  great  deal  of  interest  for  me,  an  interest 
of  the  most  intense  description  ;  but  there  are  objects 
which  have  interested  me  much  more,  and  those  are 
not  things,  but  people  —  the  French  people  ;  their 
character,  manners,  habits,  customs,  education,  reli- 
gion, amusements,  pursuits ;  and  these  I  have  en- 
deavored to  look  into  with  as  much  candor  and  im- 
partiality and  thoroughness  as  time  and  opportunity 
would  allow.  I  have  come  out  of  the  examination 
with  many  prejudices  removed,  and  with  my  most 
favorable  impressions  greatly  enlarged  and  confirmed. 
The    French   people    seem  to  me    the  most   sober, 

VOL.    II.  10 


218         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

industrious,  economical  people  I  have  ever  met ; 
perhaps  that  is  not  saying  much  ;  they  ai'e  as  honest 
as  other  people,  and  as  true  ;  they  are  charitable  and 
philanthropic  beyond  any  which  I  have  seen ;  in  point 
of  civilization,  with  some  trifling  exceptions,  they 
seem  to  me  in  advance  of  other  people,  and  in  mat- 
ters of  science  and  the  fine  arts,  and  the  useful  arts^, 
they  are  clearly  unsurpassed. 

One  trait  of  character  about  the  French  people  is 
remarkable.  They  appear  to  think  that  this  world' 
was  made  for  enjoyment,  and  so  they  crowd  into  it 
as  much  of  beauty  and  pleasure  as  their  power  and 
opportunity  admit.  I  think  they  are  right.  I  do 
not  say  that  all  their  plcEisures  are  of  the  most 
refined  character,  that  they  are  all  innocent ;  that 
they  admit  of  no  improvement,  and  that  some  of 
them  are  not  trivial,  vulgar,  and  immoral.  But  I 
believe  that  the  character  of  their  pleasures  is  on  a  par 
with  that  of  other  great  cities  ;  the  manner  in  which 
they  are  conducted  and  arranged  is  altogether  supe- 
rior to  that  which  prevails  in  most  places ;  many  of 
their  gratifications  are  of  a  highly  refined  character  ; 
many  combine  the  highest  efforts  of  genius  and  taste  ; 
and  many  of  them  have  a  brilliancy  and  beauty  and 
historical  interest  that  render  them  exquisite.  No 
person  can  walk  through  their  flower-markets,  which 
are  held  twice  a  week  in  three  different  parts  of  the 
city,  without  admitting  that  where  there  is  a  demand 
which  will  Avarrant  to  such  an  extent  the  cultivation 
of  the  most  beautiful  and  an  infinite  variety  of  plants 
and  flowers,  there  must  be  a  very  high  perception  of 
what  is  lovely  and  charming  in  nature  ;  no  person 


r     ^-.  LETTER    CLXIII.  219 

can  see  the  innumerable  galleries  of  paintings,  the 
many  exquisite  gardens,  embellished  with  the  high- 
est degree  of  taste  in  fountains  and  statues,  without 
acknowledging  the  extraordinary  cultivation  of  some 
of  the  finest  sentiments  of  our  nature  ;  and  no  person 
can  go  into  their  burying  grounds  and  observe  the 
sacred  and  undying  affection  with  which  the  memory 
of  the  dead  is  cherished,  and  the  tender  gushings  of 
a  love  which  never  dies,  poured  out  in  the  touching 
epitaphs  inscribed  on  many  of  these  monuments,  and 
not  admit  that  there  are  many  hearts  alive  to  the 
purest,  the  best,  and  the  most  tender  sensibilities  of 
which  the  soul  is  capable. 

I  wanted  to  give  you  an  account  of  some  of  the 
amusements  of  Paris,  but  it  would  require  a  volume. 
I  have  been  several  times  to  the  Hippodrome.  The 
place  is  in  the  form  of  an  oval,  with  several  rows  of 
seats  rising  from  the  ground  round  the  whole  extent 
of  it,  and  covering.  I  should  think,  more  than  two 
acres  of  land.  The  seats  are  protected  by  an  awning, 
and  are  capable  of  containing  eight  thousand  people. 
The  centre  is  open,  and  I  have  seen,  perhaps,  a 
hundred  mounted  horsemen  deploying  at  a  time.  I 
counted  eighty-nine  at  one  time,  and  I  have  no 
doubt  I  missed  some.  The  amusements  consist  of 
races  by  women,  feats  of  horsemanship,  and  chariot 
races  by  women,  several  races  and  feats  of  horseman- 
ship by  men,  and  at  last  there  is  represented,  to  the 
life,  the  meeting  of  Henry  VHI.  and  his  queen,  and 
Francis  I.  and  his  queen,  and  several  of  their  knights, 
ladies,  and  courtiers.  The  knights  and  their  horses 
are  in  full  armor,  and  a  grand  tournament  is  exhib- 


220         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

ited.  The  historical  recollections  give  it  an  intense 
interest  and  beauty.  The  assembly  in  the  area,  of 
kings,  queens,  and  knights,  the  tournament  and  con- 
test, in  which  many  break  their  lances  and  fall  or 
are  carried  off,  the  magnificence  of  the  display  and 
the  horses,  the  whole  assembly,  or  the  coup  d'cdl,  is 
exciting  beyond  any  thing  of  the  kind  that  I  have 
seen.  The  chariot-races  at  the  Hippodrome  are 
intended  to  be  an  exact  representation  of  the  ancient 
chariot-races  ;  the  chariots  have  two  wheels  each, 
and  two  horses  each,  and  are  superbly  decorated. 
The  ladies  who  drive  wear  Roman  robes  and  helmets, 
and  display  amazing  courage.  They  go  round  three 
times ;  the  excitement  is  most  vivid.     Adieu. 


LETTER  CLXIV. 

TO    MRS.    M . 

Paris,  31st  May,  1S47. 
Mt  Dear  Mrs.  M : 

I  WILL  not  use  the  expression  our  mutual  friend 

has  lately  got  a  habit  of  uttering,  in  a  half  smothered 
tone,  with  an  air  of  bravado,  and  looking  round  with 
a  considerable  self-complacency  to  witness  the  admi- 
ration of  his  courage,  but  I  must  say,  your  letter  in 
French  put  me  quite  to  my  trumps,  and  cost  me  half 

a  year's  wear  of  my  dictionary.     Mr.  at   first 

declared  he  did  not  want  to  see  it,  being  satisfied 
with  my  translation,  and  wishing,  as  usual,  to  take 
only   a    "general    survey;"    however,    his    tender 


LETTER    CLXIV.  221 

reminiscences  revived ;  his  heart  was  touched,  and 
he  took  it  to  his  room  and  occupied  at  least  a  day, 
in  making  the  navigation.  What  could  possess  you 
to  write  in  French  to  two  such  blockheads ;  nothing, 
I  know,  but  pure  unmixed  pride,  to  show  us  how 
much  more  you  knew  than  we  do,  and  to  exult  over 
our  deficiencies.     I  have  lived  through  it,  however, 

and   when  I  got    through  with  Mr.  M 's  plain 

prose,  I  felt  very  much  like  a  man  who  has  been 
lost  in  the  woods  and  comes  out  at  last  into  the 
open  fields,  with  the  smiling  cottages  of  his  own 
village  around  him,  the  cattle  grazing  in  the  pastures, 
the  children  playing  round  the  doors,  and  the  curling 
smoke  rising  slowly  from  his  own  chimney,  where 
his  dear  wife  is  trimming  the  fire,  and  sweeping  the 
hearth,  and  coaxing  the  simmering  teakettle  to  boil, 
against  the  return  of  her  liege  lord.  What  I  shall 
do  when  I  once  more  get  home,  and  hear  nothing 
but  my  own  native  tongue,  and  get  forever  out  of 
this  Babel  of  French,  German,  Italian,  Dutch,  for  I 
have  heard  them  all  the  last  week,  I  don't  know  ; 
but  of  one  thing  I  feel  quite  certain,  that  it  will  not 
be  safe  to  trust  me  without  a  straight  jacket,  or  a 
ring  in  my  nose,  by  which  I  may  be  kept  at  bay. 
How  I  envy  you  your  departure  on  the  nineteenth. 
Yet,  I'll  assure  you,  Paris  was  never,  putting  your 
absence  out  of  the  question,  was  never  half  so  pleas- 
ant as  at  this  moment.  The  Parisians  seem  abso- 
lutely mad  with  the  passion  for  pleasure,  which  grows 
by  what  it  feeds  upon,  and  becomes  utterly  epidemic. 
I  have,  myself,  got  the  disorder  very  badly;  I  have 
been  within  a  week,  three  times  to  the  Hippodrome, 


222  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

and  three  times  to  the  Cirque,  and  verily  believe,  if 
my  health  admits  of  it,  that  I  shall  go  three  times 
more  to  each  of  them  before  I  leave.  The  races  of 
the  Amazons,  and  the  chariot  races  of  the  Roman 
women  at  the  Hippodrome,  are  the  most  exciting 
spectacles  of  the  kind,  which  I  have  ever  witnessed  ; 
and  the  meeting  of  Henry  VHI.  and  his  queen,  and 
of  Francis  I.  and  his  queen,  with  their  courtiers, 
knights,  and  ladies,  and  the  grand  tournament  held 
in  their  presence  by  the  combatants  in  full  armor, 
with  their  coats  of  mail  and  battle  axes,  &c.,  &c., 
is  full  of  historical  interest,  and  constitutes  a  most 
brilliant  spectacle. 

Mr.   B and   myself,  with  Count  de  Gourcy, 

have  made  several  charming  agricultural  excursions 
in  the  country ;  and  what  with  the  fields  clothed  in 
living  green,  and  waving  with  the  rich  promises  of  a 
golden  harvest,  the  good  dinners,  and  the  agreeable 
ladies  —  real  bona  fide  milkmaids,  for  aught  I  know  — 
certainly  I  should  judge  from  their  fair  skins  and  full 
proportions  they  were  raised  upon  milk ;  even  the 
celehataire  has  himself  been  touched  ;  a  few  drops  of 
something,  I  know,  oozed  from  his  heart,  which  had 
got  into  a  kind  of  India-rubber  state,  and  a  chord  was 
struck,  as  if  with  a  newly  rosined  bow,  which  had 
not  vibrated  for  a  long  time  before. 

Friday  and  Saturday,  we  were  at  Fontainbleau. 
If  you  have  not  been  there,  come  back  to  Paris  at 
once,  and  go,  or  never  say  you  have  seen  the  glories 
of  France.  The  Chateau  itself,  in  its  exterior,  pre- 
sents a  most  ordinary  appearance ;  and  its  various 
and  irregular   masses  of  buildings,  seem   as  though 


••'*•»  LETTER    CLXIV.  223 

they  wereturned  upon  the  ground  out  of  a  basket; 
nothing  could  more  disappoint  me  ;  but  the  interior, 
with  its  magnificent  ceilings,  its  sculptured  and  gilded 
galleries,  its  frescoes,  its  gorgeous  staircases,  its  inlaid 
floors,  the  perfection  of  beauty  of  that  kind  of  work, 
and  the  many  historical  reminiscences  connected  with 
the  place,  surpassed-  my  expectations.  There  is  a 
porcelain  case,  with  four  pictures  upon  the  sides, 
connected  with  the  marriage  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans, 
which  seemed  finer  than  any  which  my  eye  ever 
before  rested  upon.  These  four  pictures  represent, 
first,  his  marriage  to  the  Duchess,  by  proxy,  in  her 
own  country ;  next,  his  marriage  by  a  Protestant 
minister,  she  being  of  that  religion ;  next,  his  marriage 
according  to  the  rites  of  the  Catholic  church,  that 
being  the  national  religion  ;  and  lastly,  his  civil  mar- 
riage according  to  the  laws  of  France.  We  would 
think  this  was  making  literally  a  Gordian  knot  of  it, 
and  drawing  it  tighter  than  the  modern  schools  of 
French  philosophy  choos<;  to  have  it  tied.  There 
was  a  circular  porcelain  table,  belted  with  the  Zodiac, 
and  having  four  allegorical  paintings  in  the  circle  of 
the  seasons,  that,  for  its  exquisiteness  of  finish  and 
beauty  of  design,  enchanted  me,  and  actually  elevated 
my  admiration  to  boiling  heat.  But  what  shall  I  say 
of  the  parks,  of  the  gardens,  and  of  the  forests.  All 
language  is  tame  ;  all  the  triumphs  of  art,  the  bright- 
est etforts  of  genius,  a  taste  in  the  highest  degree 
expanded  and  refined,  here  combine  to  embellish 
nature,  and  ravish  the  mind  with  delight. 

We  leave  for  Belgium  on  Saturday,  if  my  health 
admits,  which  I  am  sorry  to  say  is  neither  good  nor 


224  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

promising.  Do  let  us  hear  from  you  there,  directed 
to  Brussels,  at  the  Post  Restante.  Your  letter  will 
be  always  a  bonne  bouche ;  perhaps  better  bon  ban. 
Yours  truly. 


LETTER  CLXV. 

Amsterdam,  23d  June,  1847. 
Mt  Deab  M : 

I  FOUND  here,  on  my  arrival,  your  delightful  letter 
of  May  31st.  My  health,  since  leaving  Paris,  has 
improved,  but  my  spirits  are  not  very  good,  and  every 
renewed  expression  of  your  kindness  and  affection  is 
the  sweetest  cordial  that  any  kind  Samaritan  could 
supply.  We  left  Paris  nearly  three  weeks  since, 
and  have  met  with  no  accident  or  delay,  but  have 
not  progressed  with  the  rapidity  1  should  like,  yet 
we  seem  to  have  lost  no  time ;  and  as  to  objects  of 
interest,  it  is  impossible  to  take  them  in,  and  still  less 
to  give  an  account  of  them.  I  find  an  extreme  diffi- 
culty in  keeping  up  my  journal ;  but  I  put  down  the 
prominent  objects,  and  must  trust  to  impressions  and 
reminiscences  to  clothe  the  skeleton  with  flesh  and 
blood  and  give  it  life. 

You  congratulate  me  upon  having  a  travelling 
companion  and  a  courier.  It  has  its  gratifications 
and  advantages ;  but  it  has  also  its  disadvantages, 
excepting  where  the  objects  of  the  parties  are  the 
same,  the  circumstances  similar,  and  the  tastes  con- 
genial. My  travelling  companion  is  a  most  worthy 
man,  but  our  pecuniary  circumstances  are   wholly 


LETTER    CLXV.  225 

different,  and  he  feels  none  of  the  necessity  of  despatch 
which  continually  spurs  me  forward.  The  courier 
is  dull  and  self-sufficient,  and,  if  he  speaks  no  better 
French  and  German  and  Italian  than  he  does  English, 
I  think  he  must  have  taken  his  first  lessons  of  different 
instructors  at  the  Tower  of  Babel. 

I  get  along  everywhere  with  my  broken  French 
and  my  expressive  gesticulations,  though  I  confess 
the  Dutch  puzzles  me  ;  and  yesterday,  at  Leyden,  I 
had  to  put  my  foot  on  the  counter  of  a  shop,  to  show 
the  people  —  who  could  speak  nothing  but  Dutch  — 
that  1  wanted  some  socks  and  some  shoe-strings, 
which  I  succeeded  in  obtaining. 

I  find  my  expenses  would  be  greatly  increased,  if 
I  am  supposed  to  be  travelling  with  a  courier.  My 
companion  incurs  many  expenses  which  are  beyond 
my  power,  who  must  depend  for  my  respectability, 
if  I  can  aspire  to  any,  upon  what  is  internal,  rather 
than  upon  what  is  external.  He  is,  in  my  opinion, 
perfectly  right,  with  his  means,  to  refuse  himself  no 
elegance,  comfort,  or  gratification. 

Here  people  practice  an  economy,  of  which  the 
Americans,  in  general,  know  nothing.  The  English, 
likewise,  spend  lavishly,  but  the  people  on  the  Con- 
tinent never ;  and  you  will  as  often  find  persons  of 
rank  in  the  second-class  carriages,  especially  gentle- 
men, as  in  the  first.  I  have  made  three  excursions, 
with  a  baron  and  two  counts,  all  of  whom  told  me 
they  always  take  the  second-class.  I  have  nothing 
to  spend  in  personal  indulgences.  We  have  found 
it  necessary  to  go  to  different  hotels.  He  goes  to 
the  most  fashionable  ;  I  go  to  the  less  fashionable, 

VOL.  n.  10* 


226         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

where  I  fare  quite  as  well  in  all  substantials,  and  at  a 
considerably  reduced  expense.  My  only  questions  in 
regard  to  a  hotel  are,  Is  it  respectable  ?  and,  Is  it 
clean  ?  We  proceed  now  immediately  up  the  Rhine. 
He  wishes  to  stop  at  several  fashionable  watering- 
places,  for  which  I  have  neither  time  nor  money. 
When  we  get  through  Germany,  we  shall  come  to 
France  again  ;  and  then  I  have  made  up  my  mind  to 
part  and  accomplish  my  objects  as  soon  as  possible. 
He  has  no  objects  but  mere  curiosity  and  personal 
gratification,  which  are  matters  that  do  not  accord 
with  my  condition.  We  shall  part  with  perfect  good 
humor,  you  may  be  sure,  for  neither  of  us  have  other 
dispositions  towards  each  other,  and  he  will  see  that 
it  is  impossible  for  our  purposes  and  circumstances  to 
accord. 

I  feel  a  degree  of  anxiety,  which  I  cannot  express, 
to  get  through  with  my  work,  and  bring  my  travels 
to  an  end.  I  am  very  well  satisfied  with  having 
come  into  Holland,  and  especially  into  Belgium.  I 
thought  I  had  seen  very  good  farming  in  England  ; 
but  the  Belgian  arable  husbandry  is  in  advance  of 
English  husbandry ;  and  such  crops  as  I  saw  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Courtrai,  and  such  beautiful  cultiva- 
tion, never  met  my  eyes  before. 

It  is  a  great  disadvantage,  in  visiting  any  country, 
not  to  understand  the  language  ;  but  nobody  out  of 
Holland,  I  believe,  understands  Dutch  ;  nobody,  I 
think,  would  speak  it,  if  they  could  speak  any  other 
language  :  and  I  am  fortunate  enough,  in  most  cases, 
to  find  some  on6  or  more  persons  who  understand 
and  speak  French, 


LETTER    CLXV.  227 

We  left  Paris  for  Amiens,  where  is  an  agricultural 
establishment  for  orphan  children.  From  Amiens 
we  came  on  to  Arras,  where  we  took  a  private  con- 
veyance for  Lens,  to  visit  a  most  extensive  beet- 
sugar  establishment,  and  a  farm,  which,  I  was  told, 
was  the  best  in  French  Flanders.  From  Lens  we 
went  on  to  Lille,  to  get  further  information  in  regard 
to  flax  and  beet-sugar ;  and  from  thence  we  came  on 
to  Brussels,  through  Courtrai,  where  probably  the 
cultivation  is  not  exceeded  in  the  world.  At  Brus- 
sels we  staid  two  or  three  days,  and  I  went  on  to  St. 
Nicholas  and  the  Pays  de  Waes,  which  has  been  en- 
tirely redeemed  from  the  sea,  and  is  pronounced  as 
rich  in  soil,  and  as  perfect  in  its  culture,  as  any  coun- 
try the  sun  shines  upon.  I  do  not  know  who  has  a 
right  to  say  as  much  as  this  ;  but  I  can  only  say,  I 
can  conceive  of  nothing  better.  From  Brussels  I 
went  to  Mechlin;  from  Mechlin  to  Antwerp;  from 
Antwerp  to  the  Hague ;  from  the  Hague  to  Leyden ; 
from  Leyden  to  Haarlem,  where  I  attended  service 
on  Sunday,  and  heard  the  greatest  organ  in  the 
world  ;  from  Haarlem  I  have  come  on  here.  To-day 
has  been  a  steady  rain,  though  it  promises  soon  to  be 
good  weather  again.  To-morrow  I  propose  to  visit 
Broeck  and  the  dairy  establishments ;  and  then  pro- 
ceed to  the  agricultural  district  of  Strasbourg ;  and 
thence  to  Switzerland.  Beyond  that  my  route  has 
not  been  marked  out.  If  the  weather  continues  cold, 
as  it  now  is,  I  may  cross  the  Alps,  but  it  is  not  de- 
termined. 

I  have  no  power  to  express  my  admiration  of  the 
beautiful  churches  which  I  have  seen  in  Brussels  and 


228  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

Antwerp  and  Mechlin,  and  especially  the  pictures  in 
those  churches  and  in  other  galleries  and  museums. 
I  had  not  conceived  the  extent  to  which  this  art  has 
been  carried  by  Rubens,  Vandyck,  Jordeans,  Rem- 
brandt, Potter,  Raphael,  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  Gerhard 
Douw,  Teniers,  and  a  host  of  others ;  one  is  almost 
compelled  to  worship  the  divine  inspirations  of  ge- 
nius, which  seems  to  breathe  aloud  in  their  works. 
As  to  the  elegance  of  the  churches,  in  the  most  ex- 
quisitely carved  oak,  and  marble  statues,  and  gilded 
ornaments,  they  excite  your  admiration  to,  I  had 
almost  said,  a  most  painful,  certainly  a  most  exhaust- 
ing, degree. 

Holland  is  a  peculiar  country.  We  have  left  all 
the  grace  and  polish  of  life  in  France  ;  and,  though  I 
do  not  think  the  Dutch  mean  to  be  uncivil,  they  are 
certainly  wanting  in  many  of  the  refinements  of  life. 
Every  place  where  you  find  a  Dutchman,  is  redolent 
of  tobacco  smoke,  and  how  they  have  excluded  it 
from  the  churches  it  is  very  difficult  to  say.  Yours 
ever. 


LETTER  CLXVL 


,,     ^  Amsterdam,  25  th  June,  1847. 

My  Deab  a : 

I  AM  detained  here  a  day  longer  than  I  expected, 
for  the  purpose  of  completing  some  necessary  ar- 
rangements, and  this  gives  me  an  opportunity,  which 
I  did  not  expect  to  have,  of  writing  to  you.  I  wrote 
to  your  mother  the  day  before  yesterday.     Seeing  so 


LETTER    CLXVI.  229 

many  things  as  I  do,  and  witnessing,  as  if  looking 
through  a  kaleidoscope,  a  constant  and  infinitely 
varied  change  of  scenery  and  objects,  I  find  it  almost 
impossible  to  give  an  account  of  any  thing,  unless  I 
could  take  more  time  than  I  can  afford,  to  single  out, 
to  separate,  to  analyze,  and  to  mark  out  some  par- 
ticular portion  of  the  view  on  which  to  fix  your  at- 
tention.    You  must  be  content,  therefore,  with  letters 

written  in  snatches  of  time.     Poor  S used  to  say 

that  her  head  was  "  in  a  whirl,"  and  I  now  quite 
understand  the  term ;  and  really  sometimes  seem  to 
lose  all  distinct  consciousness  of  the  infinitely  varied 
objects,  scenes,  persons,  customs,  dresses,  &c.,  &c., 
which  come  under  my  observation.  I  believe,  how- 
ever, they  are  fixed  in  the  mind,  there  constituting  a 
kind  of  picture-gallery,  and  to  which,  on  my  return, 
you  shall  have,  at  any  time,  free  admission, 

I  travel  by  land  as  much  as  possible ;  by  coach, 
where  convenient,  instead  of  railroad,  and  by  day 
instead  of  night,  except  in  cases  of  absolute  necessity. 
The  first  of  all  things  to  be  asked  for,  by  me  is,  of 
course,  the  agricultural  improvements;  and  then  next 
come  the  ordinary  objects  of  curiosity,  palaces, 
churches,  museums,  galleries ;  and  then,  not  to  me 
the  least  interesting,  the  exchanges,  the  public  mar- 
kets, the  prisons  and  hospitals,  and  the  habitations  of 
the  poor  and  wretched.  But  how  to  keep  up  with 
what  I  see  is  not  easily  determined,  and  I  can  only 
put  down  the  principal  points,  and  trust  to  future 
leisure  and  application  to  supply  the  deficiency. 

This  place  has  little  to  interest  me.  It  is  a  large 
commercial  city,  with  more  than  the  usual  propor- 


230  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

tion  of  very  rich,  and  a  full  quantum,  I  am  certain, 
of  the  poor  and  dissolute.  Common  sailors  and  sol- 
diers are  generally,  so  far  as  the  morals  of  a  place  are 
concerned,  the  greatest  curses  with  which  a  town  can 
be  visited.  The  manners  of  the  Dutch  are  rude  and 
vulgar.  I  have  had  no  access  to  the  upper  classes,  as 
I  brought  no  letters,  but  I  judge  only  by  the  speci- 
mens I  meet  in  the  shops,  the  railroad  carriages  and 
stations,  the  restaurants,  the  streets,  and  the  public 
hotels.  They  have  no  grace  and  no  civility  ;  they 
do  not  spit  every  where,  like  the  Americans,  but  they 
smoke  every  where,  and  at  all  times  —  I  except  only 
the  churches,  where,  if  they  do  not  smoke,  they  put 
their  hats  on  during  the  sermon.  This  morning, 
three  very  well-dressed  gentlemen,  for  so  they  ap- 
peared, were  smoking  at  the  breakfast-table  ;  where, 
besides  myself,  there  were  two  ladies  at  breakfast. 
I  do  not  know  how  to  reconcile  this  intolerable 
smoking  with  the  neatness  which  generally  prevails ; 
for,  with  respect  .to  most  of  their  towns,  they  are 
neat,  if  such  a  thing  be  possible,  to  a  fault.  Yes- 
terday, I  devoted  the  day  to  visiting  Broeck,  Pam- 
ereuse,  and  Saardam,  that  I  might  see  what  are  pro- 
nounced the  neatest  towns,  the  cleanest  dairies,  and 
the  richest  agricultural  country  in  the  world.  I  con- 
fess, though  my  expectations  were  raised,  they  were 
equalled.  The  country  is  every  where  an  uninter- 
rupted level ;  and  now,  for  one  hundred  miles  and 
more,  we  have  not  passed  a  hill  so  high  as  is  to  be 
found  between  your  house  and  Danvers  meeting- 
house, excepting  when  we  have  gone  to  the  top  of  a 
dike  or  mound,  raised  by  ait  to  keep  out  the  sea.     It 


LETTER   CLXVI.  231 

is  every  where  intersected  with  immense  ditches  and 
canals ;  and  windmills,  in  many  cases,  are  almost  as 
thick  as  appletrees  in  an  orchard  ,•  more  than  one 
hundred,  in  full  operation,  being  in  sight  yesterday 
at  one  time.  These  mills  are  used  to  keep  down  the 
water  in  the  ditches,  and  prevent  the  land's  becom- 
ing submerged.  The  Hague,  and  Leyden,  and 
Haarlem,  are  remarkable  towns,  for  their  cleanliness, 
and  the  excellence  of  their  buildings,  and  the  ex- 
treme beauty  of  their  parks  and  public  walks  ;  but  a 
large  farm-house  and  dairy  which  I  visited,  near 
Leyden,  and  several  which  I  visited  near  Brussels 
and  Antwerp,  did  not  at  all  come  up  to  my  notion  of 
Dutch  neatness.  It  was  not  so,  however,  at  Broeck, 
which  is  a  village  of  about  a  thousand  inhabitants, 
and  where  no  carriage,  but  a  wheelbarrow,  is  ever 
suffered  to  travel  the  streets.  The  streets  are  all 
paved  with  bricks,  set  on  the  edge,  and  with  flat 
stones.  The  houses  are  very  irregularly  placed,  but 
are  many  of  them  extremely  pretty  ;  though  1  cannot 
say  much  of  the  Dutch  taste,  excepting  in  flowers, 
of  which  these  houses  and  grounds  have  a  profusion. 
The  streets  are  so  clean,  and  so  often  scoured  with 
soap  and  sand,  that,  without  exaggeration,  you  might 
sit  down  in  any  part  of  them  without  soiling  your 
dress.  We  visited  several  dairies,  for  cheese  and 
butter  are  the  great  sources  of  the  wealth  of  these 
places.  In  summer,  the  cows  remain  in  the  mead- 
ows, and  are  never  brought  to  the  house  ;  in  winter 
they  are  lodged  under  the  same  roof  with  the  family, 
and  you  step  directly  out  of  the  kitchen  or  the  parlor 
into  the  cow-house.     In  summer,  the  cow-house  is 


232        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

used  as  a  part  of  the  dairy  establishment.  The  floors 
are  paved,  in  some  cases,  with  tiles  or  shells  ;  there 
is  neither  dirt  nor  odor  ;  the  milk  vessels,  and  the 
cheese  rooms,  are  certainly  as  clean  as  human  labor 
and  care  can  make  them  ;  and,  excepting  the  culti- 
vation of  flowers,  the  decoration  of  their  habitations, 
and  their  own  dresses,  the  whole  resembles  one  of 
our  neatest  Shaker  establishments,  which  you  know 
are  so  eminent  for  their  neatness.  The  villages  of 
Saardam  and  Sandyke,  both  very  extensive,  and 
containing  many  thousands  of  inhabitants,  are  as 
cleanly  as  Broeck,  more  especially  the  latter. 

We  returned  at  night,  after  a  long  and  active  day's 
ride.  To-day  I  have  been  occupied  in  various  sights, 
and  in  writing,  and  to-morrow  we  leave  for  Cologne. 
I  shall  keep  with  my  companion  until  we  get  through 
Germany,  or  at  least,  so  far  on  that  I  can  make  my 
own  way  without  difficulty,  and  then  I  shall  make 
all  possible  despatch  for  the  completion  of  my  tour. 
I  must  go  into  the  South  of  France,  but  I  do  not 
know  that  I  shall  cross  the  Alps.  I  wanted  to  give 
you  a  long  letter  about  pictures  and  sculptures  and 
buildings,  but  it  is  idle  now  for  me  to  attempt  it. 
Adieu. 


.LETTER  CLXVII. 

„     _  Hofwyl,  Switzerland,  11th  July,  1847. 

My  Dear  M : 

This,  as  far  as  my  observation  goes,  is  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  spots  to  be  found   in  the  world,  and 


LETTER    CLXVII.  233 

with  the  most  magnificent  prospect  in  view  which 
the  eye  can  look  upon.  It  is  not  yet  five  o'clock, 
and  the  rising  sun  is  just  sprinkling,  with  floods  of 
silver,  some  of  the  highest  summits  of  the  Alps. 
Here  lies  on  one  side  of  me,  embosomed  in  a  charm- 
ing valley,  among  the  trees  and  verdant  fields,  a 
beautifully  smooth  lake,  from  which  light  clouds  of 
mist  are  rising  gently,  as  though  a  veil  of  the  finest 
lace  was  just  being  removed  from  its  face  so  softly 
as  not  to  disturb  its  repose,  or  even  ruffle  a  feature ; 
around  me,  without  a  single  fence,  are  some  of  the 
most  extended  and  fertile  fields,  under  a  highly  im- 
proved agriculture,  which,  with  their  various  crops 
and  different  shades  of  green,  present  the  appearance 
of  a  carpet  formed  and  spread  with  the  highest  skill 
and  art ;  here  are  cottages  and  substantial  farm- 
houses scattered  in  various  directions,  with  the  curl- 
ing smoke  rising  slowly  among  the  trees  by  which 
they  are  surrounded,  and  giving  signs  of  awaking 
and  renewed  life ;  the  whole  is  skirted  at  a  distance 
by  a  deep  and  dense  forest,  and  beyond  all  this,  rising 
in  a  majesty  which  I  have  no  language  to  describe,  a 
long  range  of  Alpine  summits,  forming  an  irregular 
but  sublime  outline  upon  the  horizon,  soaring  proudly 
above,  and  overlooking  every  other  object,  and  with 
the  sun  just  glittering  upon  their  snows,  which  have 
never  melted  since  the  flood,  exhibiting  a  lustre  and 
grandeur  of  the  most  surpassing  glory.  This  pleas- 
ure has  to  me  one  abatement,  and  that  is  the  fact  of 
enjoying  it  alone,  and  the  regret  that  those  who  I 
know  would  sympathize  in  my  emotions,  cannot 
share  them  with  me.     It  is  impossible,  by  any  Ian- 


234        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

guage,  to  give  you  a  just  conception  of  its  grandeur 
and  surpassing  beauty.  I  can  only  say  that  the 
scenery  of  the  Alps,  which  has  been  matter  of  curi- 
osity to  me  from  my  childhood,  has  much  exceeded 
in  interest  and  glory,  what  my  imagination  has 
painted. 

My  last  was  from  Amsterdam.  .  In  Holland  and 
along  the  Rhine  I  found  a  great  deal  in  an  agricul- 
tural view,  to  gratify  and  to  instruct  me.  I  stopped 
one  night  at  Cologne,  and  saw  the  magnificent  Cathe- 
dral, which  has  been  already  centuries  in  the  process 
of  erection,  and  is  still  unfinished.  We  cross  the 
Rhine  at  this  place  on  a  bridge  of  boats ;  but  the 
city  has  no  attractions  for  a  stranger,  save  its  Cathe- 
dral and  a  good  hotel ;  thence  I  proceeded  to  Frank- 
fort, Strasburg,  and  Basle — reached  Berne,  six  miles 
from  this,  a  week  ago  last  night.  I  walked  to 
Hofwyl  on  Sunday,  and  was  kindly  received  by  Mr. 
Fellenburg,  who  had  been  expecting  me,  through 
Lady  Bj'^ron's  introduction.  I  returned  to  Berne  on 
Sunday  evening,  and  came  out  here  again  on  Mon- 
day to  see  the  farm  and  school,  and  some  agricultu- 
ral establishments  in  the  neighborhood.  I  found 
here  a  young  English  gentleman,  a  teacher  in  the 
school,  and  who  being  intimately  acquainted  with 
some  of  my  English  friends,  at  once  offered  to  ac- 
company and  show  me  some  of  the  most  interesting 
parts  of  Switzerland,  as  far  as  lake  and  mountain 
scenery,  and  what  was  of  more  importance  to  me,  as 
far  as  cattle  and  dairy  husbandry  were  concerned. 
He  speaks  German  and  French  as  well  as  English  ; 
and  on  Tuesday  morning  we  left  early,  to  cross,  on 


LETTER    CLXVII.  235 

foot  and  on  horseback,  the  Wengern  Alps,  to  visit  the 
Oberland,  and  to  go  to  the  foot  of  the  Jungfrau, 
among  the  highest  mountains  in  Switzerland.  We 
made  the  tour  in  three  days,  which  usually  takes 
four ;  and  though  the  fatigue  of  climbing  and  de- 
scending was  beyond  any  thing  lever  had,  excepting 
at  Mount  Washington,  I  was  highly  gratified  with 
having  seen  what  is  universally  deemed  the  most 
picturesque  part  of  this  picturesque  country.  We 
returned  to  Berne  on  Thursday  evening,  and  Friday 
I  found  myself  scarcely  able  to  move.  That,  how- 
ever, has  to  a  good  degree  gone  off,  and  yesterday  I 
walked  out  here  to  finish  my  visit,  by  inspecting  the 
model  farm.  To-day  I  leave  for  Berne,  and  proceed 
in  the  shortest  way  to  Lombardy,  across  the  Simplon, 
and  beyond  that  my  route  is  not  determined.  I  have 
met  with  no  serious  difficulty  in  making  my  way,  but 
I  should  have  been  completely  foundered,  without 
some  knowledge  of  French. 

I  have  had  a  great  deal  to  enjoy,  and  I  should  be 
most  ungrateful  not  to  enjoy  what  is  before  me,  but 
I  am  actually  dying  with  anxiety  to  complete  my 
work.  I  had  no  thought  of  finding  the  agriculture 
of  the  Continent  so  advanced  as  it  appears  to  be,  and 
I  have  seen  enough  in  Switzerland  and  Holland,  fully 
to  repay  my  exertions. 

I  have  been  occupied  with  Mr.  Fellenburg  all  day, 
until  two  hours  ago,  when  I  left  his  hospitable  house 
and  his  most  interesting  establishment.  Immediately 
after  breakfast  we  left,  to  see  his  agricultural  school 
and  model  farm,  one  of  the  best  and  most  complete 
I  have  ever  visited.     It  was  a  long   walk,  and  we 


236  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

returned  at  twelve,  to  dine.  At  one  o'clock  I  went 
to  take  coffee,  at  his  brother's,  in  the  neighborhood ; 
at  two  o'clock  we  returned  to  the  house,  to  an  instru- 
mental and  vocal  concert  of  his  pupils.  This  lasted 
until  four,  when  I  was  obliged  to  take  my  leave. 
He  was  kind  enough  to  send  me  in  his  carriage  to 
this  place,  six  miles,  although  I  have  already  walked 
it  four  times.  To-morrow  morning  at  four  o'clock, 
I  leave  for  Yevay,  to  cross  the  Alps  and  the  Siraplon, 
for  Milan,  where  I  look  for  some  most  extraordinary 
improvements  in  irrigation.  From  thence  I  go  into 
Lombardy,  to  see  the  cultivation  of  olives,  grapes, 
&c.,  &c.,  and  then  return  through  the  south  of 
France.  Whether  I  shall  go  to  Florence  or  not, 
must  depend  on  many  contingencies.  The  weather, 
I  fear,  will  be  intensely  hot,  but  there  is  compensa- 
tion in  long  days  and  cool  nights.     Adieu. 


LETTER  CLXVIII. 

MQan,  22d  July,  1847. 
My  Dear  M : 

How  little  did  I  expect  ever  to  date  a  letter  to  you 
from  this  place  ;  but  here  I  am,  in  tolerable  health, 
and  having  to  thank  God  for  ten  thousand  mercies 
poured  down  upon  me,  like  the  everlasting  streams 
descending  from  the  mountains,  in  sight  of  which  I 
write,  to  feed  and  bless  the  valleys  below. 

My  last  was  dated  at  Berne.  I  could  not  have 
been  more  fortunate  than  in  my  visit  to  Switzerland 


LETTER    CLXVIII.  237 

—  I  mean  for  my  own  special  objects  —  and  I  have 
now  reached  a  country  rich  in  the  best  products  of 
agriculture,  and  beaming  with  a  luxuriance  certainly 
rare,  if  not  wholly  unknown  to  a  person  who  has 
never  stood  under  a  tropical  sun.  The  cultivation  of 
grapes  and  of  olives  is  very  much  attended  to,  and 
that,  with  silk,  is  a  source  of  immense  wealth  to  the 
country.  I  believe  each  of  these  products  would 
find  a  soil  and  climate  in  parts  of  the  United  States 
favorable  to  their  cultivation,  and  that  they  might  be 
grown  among  us  to  the  greatest  advantage.  All  this 
I  must  leave  to  other  communications. 

From  Berne  I  came  on  to  Fribourg,  where  I  stopped 
to  see  the  suspension  bridges,  miracles  of  modern  art 
and  enterprise,  and  to  visit  a  Jesuit's  College  of  four 
to  five  hundred  pupils  and  sixty  teachers.  You  will 
perhaps  be  surprised  when  I  tell  you  that  besides 
music  and  drawing,  they  teach  likewise,  fencing, 
boxing,  and  horsemanship ;  that  they  have  several 
billiard  tables,  and  a  small  theatre  elegantly  fitted  up 
with  scenery,  &c.,  for  the  entertainment  of  the 
students,  at  which  the  students  play  as  amateurs. 

From  Fribourg  I  came  on  to  Vevay,  on  the  Geneva 
Lake ;  and  think  I  never  saw  a  spot  so  beautiful. 
From  Vevay  I  sailed  on  this  charming  lake  to  Geneva, 
the  source  of  the  Rhone ;  from  Geneva  I  went  to 
Villenenve,  at  the  other  extremity  of  the  lake;  and 
from  Villeneuve  to  Martigny,  in  the  midst  of  the 
highest  Alps.  Nothing  could  be  more  interesting 
than  this  passage.  At  Martigny  I  found  an  American 
gentleman,  who  had  already  hired  his  guide  for 
Chamouni,  and  invited  me  to  accompany  him.     The 


238         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

journey,  which  was  made  on  the  back  of  a  mule, 
and  walking  about  twenty  miles,  was  fatiguing,  but 
gratifying  in  the  highest  degree.  I  thought,  and 
was  told  I  had  already  seen  the  finest  scenery  in  the 
Alps,  but  it  was  an  error.  The  language  of  admi- 
ration is  exhausted,  and  I  can  only  say  I  fell  down 
and  worshipped  at  the  foot  of  Mont  Blanc.  There 
it  stood  befoi^e  me  in  all  its  sublime  grandeur,  covered 
with  snows  which  no  impure  breath  had  ever  sullied, 
and  which  no  sun  has  ever  softened  ;  seeming  to 
enjoy  a  heaven's  purity,  by  its  own  independent 
right,  and  to  look  down  with  a  calm  disdain  upon 
every  thing  below.  The  next  day  we  returned  to 
Martigny,  and  my  companion,  Mr.  Tennant,  of  South 
Carolina,  returned  on  his  way  to  Geneva,  while  I  set 
out  to  cross  the  Simplon  for  this  place,  a  task  of  two 
days  and  nearly  two  nights.  The  passage  of  the 
Simplon  has  been  the  object  of  my  curiosity  ever 
since  I  read,  more  than  thirty  years  ago,  Simond's 
account  of  it ;  but  the  labor,  and  skill,  and  perse- 
verance, and  enterprise,  displayed  in  its  construction, 
vastly  exceeded  my  expectations.  In  some  cases, 
the  road  passes  through  gullies  cut  at  the  edge  of 
precipices  through  the  solid  rock ;  and  in  one  case, 
you  pass  directly  under  a  large  waterfall,  which  you 
see  some  time  before  you  approach  it,  tumbling  from 
the  highest  summits,  and  as  soon  as  you  have  passed 
under  it,  streaming  down  below  you  for  miles,  in  a 
silver  and  glittering  train.     Adieu. 


^ff^yyf^  hllTTER    CLXIX.  ^39 


LETTER  CLXIX. 

TO    MBS.    B . 

Milan,  22d  July,  1847. 
My  Dear  Friexd: 

Here  am  I,  melted  down  under  an  Italian   sun,  a 

mere  piece  of  gum-elastic  ;    and  whether  I  shall  ever 

recover  my  erectness  or  hold  together  much  longer, 

who  knows  ?     My  heart  has  been  constantly  agitated 

by  the  various  objects  which  have  been  concentrating 

their  power  upon  it  for  the  last  month ;  the  wonders 

of  art ;    the  still  more   glorious  wonders  of  nature  ; 

humanity  in  its  most  degraded  and  in  its  most  exalted 

and  beautiful  forms ;  minds  which  are  an  utter  waste, 

or   covered    with   the    most    noxious  and    offensive 

weeds ;  and  minds  cultivated   with  exquisite   skill, 

and  beaming  with  an  exuberant  luxuriance  of  that 

which   most    truly  adorns   and  ennobles ;    pictures, 

which    entrance    one    by   their    skill    and    beauty ; 

churches,    overpowering    by  their   complexity    and 

grandeur,  and  which  make  one  wonder  how  such  vast 

plans  could  have  found  their  way  into  any  thing  so 

small  as  the  human  head,  like  the  amazement  felt  by 

the  poor  pupils  of  Goldsmith's  village  schoolmaster  ; 

statues,  before  which  one  bows  down  with  religious 

veneration,  as  before  the  sensible  embodiment  of  the 

highest  attributes  of  a  genius  little  short  of  divine  ; 

glorious,  or  so  called,  but  foul  monuments,  sprinkled 

over  with  blood,  and  intended  to  commemorate  the 


240  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

triumphs  of  those  tiger  passions  which  have  so  often 
ravaged  the  earth  and  made  it  desolate,  and  filted  it 
with  misery  and  death ;  and  works  of  utility  of  over- 
powering magnitude,  recording  the  infinitely  nobler 
triumphs  of  human  skill  and  labor,  in  multiplying  the 
useful  arts,  facilitating  the  benevolent  intercourse  of 
distant  countries  and  nations,  and  ameliorating  and 
elevating  the  condition  of  mankind  ;  extended  plains, 
covered  with  all  the  riches  of  an  industrious  agri- 
culture ;  and  lofty  mountains,  piercing  the  clouds 
with  their  bristling  and  naked  points,  or  covered  with 
eternal  snows,  untrodden  by  human  foot,  and  making 
an  impassable  barrier  to  human  progress ;  beautiful 
cascades,  descending  from  the  loftiest  summits  by 
successive  leaps,  and  pouring  out  at  every  step  their 
glittering  showers  of  brilliants,  and  mighty  rivers, 
fed  by  these  humble  rills,  and  bearing  on  their  noble 
streams  the  vast  accumulations  of  human  labor,  and 
the  richest  treasures  of  art  and  life ;  but  this  is  not 
half  of  what  I  have  seen  and  daily  see  to  touch  my 
heart,  to  keep  my  poor  powers  of  perception  in  a 
constant  state  of  tension,  and  to  feed  and  inflame  my 
imagination  to  the  very  extreme  of  endurance.  But 
I  cannot  now  tell  you  about  it ;  that  must  be  at 
present  left. 

I  have  crossed  Belgium  and  Holland,  lands  plun- 
dered from  the  sea  ;  I  have  ascended  the  Rhine,  with 
its  bordering  summits  covered  with  ruined  castles, 
ruined,  thank  God,  and  its  cultivated  hill-sides  teem- 
ing with  a  luxuriant  vegetation,  and  its  banks  peo- 
pled with  rich  and  populous  villages  and  cities.  I 
have  crossed  the  Alps  by  various  passes,  and  have 


LETTER    CLXIX.  241 

followed  the  boisterous  Rhine  to  its  source  and  its 
hiding-place  among  the  mountains,  and  to  those  eter- 
nal seas  of  ice  which  feed  its  mighty  current.  I  have 
been  at  Frankfort,  and  adored  the  production  of  pure 
inspiration  in  the  statue  of  Ariadne.  I  have  been  at 
Strasbourg,  at  Basle,  at  Berne,  at  Geneva  ;  into  the 
Oberland,  and  I  have  stood  in  mute  astonishment  at 
the  foot  of  the  Jungfrau  ;  I  have  been  into  the  valley 
of  Chamouni,  and  here  I  felt  my  own  nothingness, 
and  if  there  was  any  thing  less  than  nothing,  I  should 
be  that  also,  at  the  base  of  Mont  Blanc.  I  have 
crossed  the  Simplon  with  my  respiration  suspended 
and  my  heart  thumping  as  though  it  would  break 
through,  with  admiration  at  this  triumph  of  labor, 
enterprise,  and  power. 

Here  I  am  in  the  fertile  plains  of  Lombard y.  Yes- 
terday I  luxuriated  on  the  placid  waters  of  Como  ; 
to-morrow  I  start  for  Venice.  I  jabber  a  little  French. 
I  have  found  out  a  little  German.  I  am  figuring  away 
in  Italian  ;  and  by  the  help  of  gesticulations,  a  little 
dangerous  to  the  health  in  this  climate,  get  on  toler- 
ably well.  I  found  I  spoke  perfect  Dutch,  when  I 
could  gargle  water  in  my  throat,  but  the  power  ceased 
as  soon  as  I  swallowed  or  threw  out  the  water, 
which  was  an  inconvenience.  Why  did  Heaven 
make  languages  so  different  ?  In  most  of  the  boats 
and  diligences  and  hotels  I  realize  a  perfect  Babel. 
Adieu. 

VOL.    II.  11 


242        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 


LETTER  CLXX. 

Florence,  Italy,  4th  August,  1847. 
My  Dbar  M : 

I   HAVE    unexpectedly   a    private    opportunity  for 

Liverpool,  so  I  give  you   the  half  hour,  which  is  all 

that  is  allowed  me.     Passing  through  so  many  places, 

meeting  so  many  persons,  seeing  such  various  things, 

it  is  extremely  difficult  for  me  to  accomplish  all  that 

I  wish,  but  I  think  my  last  was  dated  at  Milan.     My 

progress  since  I  left  there  has  been  marked  by  not  a 

single  untoward  incident.     I  was  advised  at  Milan 

by  all  means  to  visit  Como,  which  would  cost  a  day. 

I  went  to  this  charming  lake,  one  of  the  most  splendid 

natural  mirrors  from  which   the  beautiful    forms  of 

hills  and  trees  and  palaces  were  ever  reflected  ;   and 

you  may  judge  of  my  surprise  when,  upon  entering 

the  hotel,  without  observing  any  one  in  the  room, 

I   heard   my  name    pronounced    by    the    Rev.    Mr. 

Parkman,  of  Dover,  N.  H.,  who  was  enjoying,  with 

his  wife,  children,  sister,  and  mother,  all  the  delights 

of  this  earthly  paradise.     Howl  envied  him!  not 

the  paradise,  but  wife  and  children,  which  I  think  if 

I  ever  see  them  again,  will  make   a  paradise  to  me, 

wherever  it  may  be.     I  do  not  know  that  I  should 

not  recognize  even  an  enemy  in  a  foreign  country 

with  welcome,  still  more  then  a  friend  ;  and  my  visit 

was  made  truly  delightful.     As  if  it  were  Heaven's 

purpose  to  provide  for  me,  as  I  have  experienced  a 


LETTER    CLXX.  243 

thousand  times,  when  I  do  not  know  how  to  provide 
for  myself,  he  at  once  said  he  would  go  with  me 
to  Venice.  He  speaks  Italian  quite  passably,  and 
this  proposition  was  convenient  and  delightful. 
The  next  day  but  one  brought  us  to  Milan,  and  we 
proceeded  together  to  Venice,  where  I  staid  four  days. 
Much  of  the  country  in  the  neighborhood  of  Milan 
was  full  of  agricultural  improvements,  especially 
in  the  way  of  irrigation.  Mr.  Pusey  had  already 
told  me  it  was  one  of  the  best  cultivated  districts 
in  Europe,  and  I  was  highly  gratified  and  in- 
structed, and  shall  make  ample  use  of  what  I  have 
seen. 

We  reached  Venice  by  diligence  and  railroad  in  a 
day  and  a  night ;  the  city  is  of  a  most  extraordinary 
character,  I  had  almost  said  afloat  at  sea  ;  the  streets 
all  canals,  not  a  horse  being  known  in  the  city,  and 
the  only  conveyance  by  gondolas.  But  it  is  full  of 
objects  of  interest,  and  we  spent  four  days  in  explor- 
ing its  curiosities,  its  canals,  its  convents,  its  churches, 
its  museums,  its  galleries,  and  its  palaces.  The  pal- 
aces are  most  of  them  deserted  and  sad ;  the  hotel  at 
which  I  staid,  and  so  with  all  the  principal  hotels,  is 
an  old  palace,  and  the  grand  staircases,  painted  cham- 
bers, extensive  corridors  and  halls,  speak  of  an  extra- 
ordinary grandeur  and  gaiety  with  which  they  wt,^ 
once  familiar,  but  the  voice  of  which  is  not  now 
heard,  even  in  its  dying  accents.  All  that  weedth 
and  vanity  and  luxury  could  expend  upon  these 
places  was  lavished  without  stint ;  but  it  has  peissed 
away  like  a  gilded  autumnal  sunset.  There  are, 
however,  some  exceptions.     Many  of  the  noble  fam- 


244  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

ilies  of  Venice  have  become  utterly  extinct,  but  some 
still  remain,  shorn  in  a  great  measure  of  their  original 
splendor,  but  still  illustrious  and  honored  by  their 
descent,  wedth,  and  rank,  and  it  may  be  by  their 
virtues  also. 

The  great  objects  of  interest  in  Venice  to  a  stran- 
ger, are  their  churches  and  the  galleries  or  collections 
of  pictures.  I  had  supposed  I  had  seen  many  ele- 
gant churches,  but  those  of  Venice,  especially  in  their 
marble  ornaments,  and  the  beauty  and  magnificence 
of  their  architecture,  excepting  only  the  Cathedral  at 
Milan,  far  exceeded  what  I  had  before  seen.  I  could 
not  have  believed  it  possible,  but  for  my  own  per- 
sonal attestation,  that  marble  could  be  wrought  with 
so  much  skill,  in  some  cases,  especially  where  dra- 
pery was  imitated  so  as  to  be  scarcely  distinguish- 
able from  nature  itself. 

The  pictures  in  Venice  are,  some  of  them,  by  the 
first  masters,  and  considered  as  the  most  precious 
gems  of  an  art  almost  creative,  and  of  which  I  must 
confess  I  never  knew  the  power  until  I  witnessed  the 
productions  of  men  whose  genius  has  rendered  them 
immortal,  and  placed  them  in  the  highest  niches  of 
honor  as  the  household  deities  of  the  fine  arts.  One 
of  the  pictures  which  I  saw,  a  single  figure  about 
four  feet  square,  a  Magdalen,  by  Titian,  was  for  sale  ; 
the  modest  price  asked  for  it  was  fifty  thousand  dol- 
lars ;  mind  you,  fifty  thousand  dollars,  and  they  ex- 
pect to  find  a  purchaser.  As  I  had  not  the  money  in 
my  pocket  to  purchase,  I  did  not  inquire  if  that  were 
the  lowest  price.  But  one  melancholy  reflection 
forced  itself  upon  me  in  this  case,  that  is,  that  the 


LETTER    CLXX.  245 

painter  himself,  the  author  of  such  a  work,  probably 
died  in  poverty,  without  his  labors  being  in  any  just 
measure  appreciated. 

Venice  is  full  of  the  most  painful  reminiscences. 
Its  Arsenal  exhibits  instruments  and  machines  for 
torture,  that  almost  make  one's  hair  stand  on  end. 
One  is  compelled  to  ask  how  can  men  be  so  diaboli- 
cal in  their  treatment  of  their  fellow  beings  ?  There 
is  a  melancholy  interest  appertaining  to  all  these 
things,  and  I  do  not  know  that  in  the  same  length 
of  time,  I  ever  gathered  more  instruction  in  the  great 
science  of  human  nature. 

I  could  not  look  at  the  Lion's  Mouth  without  a 
shudder.  This  is  the  head  of  a  lion  carved  upon 
the  walls  of  the  palace,  with  an  open  mouth,  into 
which  anonymous  accusations  and  informations 
against  individuals  were  privately  thrown,  which  at 
least  rendered  them  suspected,  and  often  led,  under 
the  caprices  of  despotism,  to  arrest  and  imprisonment 
of  the  most  horrible  description,  to  torture,  and  often 
to  death.  The  dungeons  and  prison-houses  here 
appeared  stained  all  over  with  human  blood  ;  images 
of  the  most  dreadful  cruelty  continually  crowded 
upon  my  imagination,  and  the  walls  seemed  to  echo 
with  the  plaintive  sighings  of  the  prisoner,  or  the 
agonizing  shrieks  of  the  murdered  victims  of  un- 
bridled, despotic,  and  licentious  tyranny. 

From  Venice  I  came  to  Padua,  rich  in  traditions 
and  reminiscences ;  from  Padua  to  Ferrara,  dirty  and 
dismal ;  from  Ferrara  to  Bologna,  a  clean,  beautiful 
city,  abounding  in  objects  of  interest  to  a  man  of 
taste ;  from  Bologna  to  Florence,  crossing  the  Apen- 


246         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

nines  by  a  road  which  establishes  the  triumphs  of 
human  skill,  in  surmounting  the  most  difficult  imped- 
iments, and  then  descending  into  the  valley  of  the 
Arno,  fertile,  luxuriant,  and  cultivated  with  the 
highest  skill,  and  in  its  beauty  and  fertility  more 
resembling  my  notions  of  Eden  than  any  thing 
which  has  yet  come  under  my  observation.  I  have 
seen  the  works  of  art  in  this  very  home  of  genius, 
and  to-morrow  I  intend  to  visit  one  or  two  agricul- 
tural schools  of  a  peculiar  character. 

I  cannot  content  myself  to  be  within  two  days 
journey  of  Rome,  and  not  visit  a  city  so  much  an 
object  of  interest  to  every  school  boy,  to  every  person 
who  loves  the  fine  arts,  to  every  politician  who 
reads  history,  and  to  every  man  of  imagination  and 
taste  who  would  see  this  great  Samson  of  history, 
shorn  of  his  locks,  and  laying  helpless  in  his  repose. 
Thence  I  may  go  for  two  or  three  days  to  Naples, 
and  thence  I  turn  my  footsteps  towards  home  — 
home  —  home.  I  shall  keep  you  apprised  of  my 
progress.  The  weather  is  intensely  hot,  but  my 
health  seems  to  have  amended  as  the  weather  has 
grown  warmer.  Flowers  and  fruits  are  in  abun- 
dance ;  melons,  plums,  pears,  peaches,  figs,  grapes, 
oranges,  and  lemons,  in  the  greatest  perfection.  I 
do  not  see  a  delicious  blushing  rareripe  but  I  wish  I 
could  hand  it  to  you.  It  would  take  a  ream  instead 
of  a  sheet  to  tell  you  about  Florence.  I  dare  not 
commence.     Yours  truly. 


LETTER    CLXXI.  247 


LETTER  CLXXI. 


TO    MRS.    B . 

Rome,  August  17th,  1847. 
My  Deab  FaiEKD: 

After  a  most  exciting  round  of  sight-seeing,  I  sit 
down  to  recreate  myself  with  a  few  friendly  words  to 
you.  My  visit  at  Florence  was  full  of  interest  and 
highly  opportune.  The  Arch-Duchess,  I  think  I 
may  venture  to  suggest,  out  of  kind  regard  to  my 
curiosity,  saw  fit  while  I  was  there  to  give  birth  to 
an  heir,  or  to  speak  artistically,  —  as  one  should  cer- 
tainly do  in  the  very  home  of  the  arts, — took  pains 
to  present  to  her  husband  a  superb  piece  of  statuary, 
finished  by  a  master's  hand.  I  had  the  pleasure  of 
witnessing  the  rejoicings  on  this  great  occasion,  and 
saw  the  Arch-Duke  go  to  church  in  state  to  celebrate 
a  Te  Deum,  and  saw  the  magnificent  dome  of  their 
cathedral  illuminated,  presenting  —  to  compare  small 
things  with  great — a  perfect  beehive  of  fire,  rising 
magnificently  upon  the  dark  ground  of  the  sky,  and 
shedding  a  flood  of  splendor  upon  the  city.  I  am 
sure  I  felt  very  much  obliged  to  the  Arch-Duchess. 
From  Florence  t  set  off"  for  the  "  Eternal  City;  "  — 
two  days  and  two  nights  on  the  road,  with  a  com- 
fortable seat  in  the  coupe  of  a  diligence,  over  the 
best  made,  but  worst  directed  road  I  ever  saw  ;  per- 
fectly smooth,  but  going  over  the  summit  of  every 


248  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

high  hill  that  could  be  found,  sometimes  with  five, 
and  sometimes  with  nine  horses  and  two  pairs  of 
oxen  ;  but  upon  the  whole  getting  along  with  as  much 
comfort  as  one  could  expect,  and,  abating  the  hotels 
and  taverns  on  the  road,  which  are  really  not  fit  in 
general  for  a  dog  to  go  into,  accomplishing  the  jour- 
ney with  considerable  pleasure,  and  with  a  degree  of 
interest  continuing  to  increase  until  I  fixed  my  eyes 
upon  the  Dome  of  St.  Peter's  and  saw  the  seven  hills 
of  Rome,  the  scenes  and  objects  of  so  much  interest 
to  awaken  the  imagination,  to  tax  the  memory, 
and  to  touch  the  heart.  I  had  no  sooner  reported 
myself  at  the  police  office  and  brushed  off  a  little  of 
the  dust  of  the  road,  than  I  determined,  die  or  live, 
not  to  sleep  until  I  had  seen  St.  Peter's,  the  Colos- 
seum, and  the  Roman  Forum,  and  this  I'll  assure 
you  gave  me  enough  to  dream  about  for  that  night. 
I  seem  to  be  very  much  in  luck  in  many  cases  ; 
and  there  was  put  under  my  care  from  Florence  to 
Rome,  a  little  English  lady,  very  pretty  and  agree- 
able, of  course,  or  I  would  not  have  taken  charge  of 
her,  whose  husband  could  not  immediately  follow. 
She  spoke  French  and  Italian  perfectly,  and  this 
was,  in  repeated  instances,  of  great  advantage  to  me, 
especially  under  the  vexatious  examinations  of  the 
passport  officers  and  custom  houses. 

My  visit  here  has  been  as  full  of  gratification  as 
the  dimensions  of  my  poor  mind  can  take  in,  and  I 
have  still  a  thousand  things  to  see,  besides  wishing 
to  see  again  all  that  I  have  seen.  I  cannot  give  you 
my  impressions,  for  that  would  require  a  ream  instead 
of  a  sheet  of  paper.     The  Pope  has  been  as  kind  as 


LETTER    CLXXI.  249 

the  Arch-Duchess  at  Florence,  and  a  great  fete  of  the 
church  came  most  opportunely.  Last  Sunday  was 
the  Feast  of  the  Assumption  of  the  Virgin,  when 
High  Mass  was  held  at  the  Basilica  of  St.  Marie,  one 
of  the  next  largest  churches  to  St.  Peter's.  Here  the 
pope  and  cardinals  went  in  state,  and  afterwards  he 
gave  his  benediction  to  the  immense  multitude,  in 
front  of  the  church,  as  is  customarily  done  in  the 
holy  week  at  St.  Peter's.  The  Queen's  display  in 
England  is  little  more  than  child's  play  to  it,  and  all 
that  art,  and  taste,  and  genius,  and  music,  and  mili- 
tary display,  and  silks,  and  satins,  and  peacocks' 
feathers,  and  gold,  and  silver,  and  diamonds,  and 
precious  stones,  and  mitres,  and  crowns,  could  do  in 
their  most  brilliant  combination,  to  make  an  affair 
glorious  and  magnificent,  was  done  ;  and  I  waved 
my  hat  and  shouted  "  viua,"  in  compliment  to  this 
great  and  good  man  in  concert  with  the  assembled 
and  excited  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  who 
crowded  the  square. 

I  leave  this  on  Monday  next  for  Naples,  where  I 
learn  that  Vesuvius  is  in  a  state  of  eruption,  all  get- 
ting ready  you  see  for  my  approval.  Bless  the 
Arch-Duchess,  the  Pope,  and  Mount  Vesuvius !  I 
make  my  way  hence  to  Paris,  where  heaven  grant  I 
may  be  before  the  middle  of  September,  because  it 
brings  me  so  much  nearer  England,  and  England  is 
so  much  nearer  my  dear  family;  I  say  nothing  of 
English  friends,  whom  I  consider  as  part  of  that 
family,  and  love  most  heartily.  My  best  regards  to 
your  best  friend,  and  to  all  our  common  friends,  not 
forgetting  the  youngsters.     Yours,  most  truly..  .-^ 

VOL.    II.  11* 


^50  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 


LETTER  ^LXXII. 

TO    MRS.    T.,    LONDON. 

Kome,  20th  August,  1847. 
iJy  Deak  Fkiend: 

I  SUPPOSE  by  this  time  you  have  quite  forgotten 
that  there  is,  or  ever  was,  such  a  person  as  the 
"writer  of  this;  but  here  I  am  as  large  as  life,  I  do 
not  know  but  a  little  larger,  as  handsome  as  usual, 
and  possibly,  at  this  distance,  even  more  agreeable. 
But  don't  be  in  a  hurry  to  comfort  yourself  with  the 
idle  notion  that  you'll  keep  me  at  this  distance  ;  no 
such  good  thing  will  happen  to  you  through  my 
voluntary  consent ;  for  I  have  reached  within  a  dis- 
tance of  thirty  hours  the  ultimate  southern  limit  of 
my  journey,  and  when  Naples  is  visited,  and  I  have 
trodden  the  forsaken  streets  of  Pompeii,  and  looked 
upon  Vesuvius,  with  its  locks  of  liquid  fire  streaming 
down  its  back,  I  shall  turn  "  right  about,"  and  mean 
to  be  with  you  in  October. 

Have  you  had  any  hot  weather  in  England  ?  if  not 
send  to  Rome  for  any  quantity,  and  we  can  spare  you 
every  day  twenty  degrees  of  Fahrenheit,  and  have 
heat  enough  left  to  roast  eggs  in  the  sun,  and,  I 
might  almost  add,  by  moonlight.  As  matters  are, 
however,  I  beg  to  inform  you,  that  hot  weather  and 
neuralgia  have  no  affinity  with  each  other. 

What  shall  I  say  to  you  about  Rome  ?     There  is 


LETTEK    CLXXII.  251 

every  thing  to  be  said,  and  yet  there  is  nothing  which 
one  can  say,  because  it  would  require  a  year  to  do 
any  thing  like  justice  to  what  I  have  seen.  Rome 
may  be  called  a  wilderness  of  art,  and  of  the  pro- 
ductions of  genius.  There  are  three  hundred  and 
fifty  churches,  in  Rome,  most  of  which  are  interest- 
ing either  from  some  association  of  historical  fact,  or 
from  some  fine  painting  or  statuary,  which  adorns  the 
walls.  St.  Peter's,  high  as  were  my  expectations, 
altogether  surpasses  them  by  its  grandeur,  its  beauty, 
its  richness,  its  mosaics,  its  statues,  its  pictures,  its 
chapels,  its  columns,  its  mighty  dome,  and  its  magni- 
ficent colonnade  and  portico.  St.  Peter's  is  truly  one 
of  the  wonders  of  the  world,  and  seems  a  miracle  of 
art.  It  was  three  hundred  years  in  building,  and  its 
cost  is  beyond  all  conjecture.  St.  Paul's,  when  its 
marbles  and  statuary  and  sculpture  and  mosaics  are 
considered,  compared  with  it,  is  a  bagatelle. 

Several  of  the  Roman  churches  are  the  old  pagan 
edifices,  differently  appropriated  and  fitted  up.  The 
change  from  the  splendid  worship  of  the  heathen 
gods  and  goddesses,  into  the  present  worship,  is 
probably,  as  Middleton  in  his  letter  from  Rome  has 
illustrated,  not  very  violent.  One  of  the  finest 
churches  in  Rome,  containing,  I  think,  the  hand- 
somest room  I  ever  saw,  was  formed  out  of  a  portion 
of  Diocletian's  baths  or  palace,  the  original  external 
walls  being  entirely  retained.  The  statue  of  St. 
Peter,  whose  foot  the  Catholics  kiss  so  devoutly,  was 
the  statue  of  Jupiter  with  a  new  head  put  on,  so  as 
to  make  a  Christian  of  him.     The  beautiful  Cumaean 


252        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

Sibyl,  with  some  slight  alterations  in  the  costume, 
now  appears  as  St.  Anna,  and  is  probably  just  as 
good  a  saint  as  if  she  had  been  made  expressly  for 
the  place.  The  elegant  Temple  of  Yesta  is  one  of 
the  prettiest  churches  in  Rome ;  and  if  they  had 
Lot's  wife,  I  have  no  doubt  they  would  at  once 
make  a  saint  of  her,  unless,  possibly,  they  might 
wish  to  use  her  for  culinary  purposes. 

There  were  few  things  in  Rome  more  curious  than 
one,  seldom  mentioned  by  travellers,  called  the  Co- 
lumbaria, or  dove-cotes.  These  were  places  of  in- 
terment, not  for  the  bodies,  but  for  the  ashes  of  the 
deceased.  They  were  places  dug  in  the  ground, 
perhaps  twenty  or  twenty-five  feet  square,  and  it  may 
be,  sixteen  or  twenty  feet  deep.  The  sides  are  built 
up  with  shelves,  and  these  shelves  are  partitioned  off 
into  small  compartments,  and  each  compartment  con- 
tains a  small  marble  or  stone  chest  or  urn.  In  the 
centre  of  the  vault  there  is  a  square  block,  leaving  a 
free  passage  between  this  and  the  outer  walls,  and 
this  too  is  lined  with  shelves  and  compartments  of 
the  same  description.  These '  small  chests  or  urns 
contain  the  ashes  of  the  d6ad  after  the  bodies  had 
been  burnt,  as  was  formerly  the  custom.  Over  one 
row  of  the  shelves  was  inscribed  "  Caesar's  House- 
hold," and  I  put  my  hand  into  one  of  the  urns  and 
took  up  a  handful  of  the  burnt  bones,  probably  of 
some  of  the  inmates  of  the  palace,  these  fragments  of 
mortality,  these  touching  emblems  of  the  transitori- 
ness  of  human  existence,  I  believe  some  of  these 
places  are  of  comparatively  recent  discovery,  and 
some  are  now  in  the  process  of  being  opened.     You 


LETTER    CLXXII.  253 

descend  into  them  by  a  flight  of  steps,  and  they  are 
covered  by  a  building  which  I  deemed  a  modern 
erection. 

It  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  describe  the  emo- 
tions with  which  I  stood  surrounded  by  the  relics  of 
so  many  hundreds  and  thousands  of  gay  beings,  the 
favorites  of  princes,  the  votaries  of  pleasure,  the  am- 
bitious, the  luxurious,  the  fashionable,  the  children 
of  mirth  and  revelry,  like  insects  around  the  evening 
taper,  fluttering  around  the  brilliant  centre  of  all  that 
wealth,  and  pomp,  and  luxury  could  bring  into  one 
blazing  point,  and,  like  them,  soon  to  perish  in  their 
own  excesses. 

But  far  soberer  thoughts  came  over  me;  those 
who  here  deposited  the  remains  of  what  was  once  so 
gay  and  beautiful,  so  dazzling  to  envy,  so  bright  to 
hope,  so  brilliant  to  imagination,  and  so  dear  to  af- 
fection, saw  here  the  end ;  to  them,  there  was  noth- 
ing beyond  this.  What  an  affecting  catastrophe ! 
and  how,  in  such  a  case,  could  my  heart  fail  to  feel 
its  deepest  throes,  and  to  pour  out  its  loudest  tones 
of  gratitude,  that  T  was  not  left  to  this  dark  despair; 
but  that  Christian  faith,  like  the  sun  rising  upon 
Alpine  summits,  by  night  so  dark  and  terrible  and 
frowning,  —  gilding  them  with  a  celestial  glory,  per- 
mits us  to  think  no  more  of  the  dead,  but  of  the 
living ;  and  while  that  which  is  perishable  may  be 
left  to  perish,  the  man  survives,  and  all  that  was 
valuable  in  the  human  existence  comes  out  unscathed 
and  immortal.     Adieu. 


254        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 


LETTER  CLXXIII. 

Kome,  20th  August,  1847. 
My  Deak  M : 

Mr  last  was  dated  at  Florence,  which  I  hope  has 
been  received.  It  was  not  very  full,  I  am  aware,  for 
two  reasons ;  the  first,  because  my  time  has  been  so 
constantly  taken  up,  in  passing  from  one  object  and 
one  place  to  another ;  the  second,  because  I  see  so 
many  objects,  persons,  and  places,  that  I  find  it  im- 
possible to  give  you  an  account  of  all,  and  equally 
difficult  to  select  and  give  you  an  account  of  any  in 
particular.  I  shall  give  you  my  journal,  when  I  get 
home,  and  as  many  verbal  explanations  as  you  can 
desire. 

I  left  Florence  at  one  o'clock  in  the  day,  and  was 
compelled  to  ride  two  days  and  two  nights,  before  I 
reached  this  great  city — an  object  of  my  intense 
curiosity  ever  since  I  was  a  boy.  As  we  approached 
the  city,  my  impatience  became  extreme,  and  when 
I  first  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  great  dome  of  St. 
Peter's,  my  heart  beat  as  if  it  would  get  out,  and  I 
experienced  a  mixture  of  sensations  impossible  for 
me  to  describe,  but  which,  if  I  should  live  a  century, 
I  never  could  forget.  I  had  only  time  to  refresh 
myself  by  a  bath  and  a  slight  meal,  before  I  took  a 
guide  to  show  me  the  mighty  ruins  of  ancient  Rome, 
so  long  the  mistress  of  the  world,  the  centre  of  arts 
and  sciences,  the  home  of  poetry  and  eloquence,  the 


LETTER    CLXXm.  255 

seat  of  the  greatest  political  power  that  was  ever 
swayed  upon  the  earth,  and  the  abode  of  wealth, 
splendor,  and  luxury,  such  as  hardly  ever  before 
filled  even  the  dreams  of  men.  I  soon  found  myself 
in  the  midst  of  these  ruins,  the  broken  shadows,  the 
crumbling  fragments  of  all  this  grandeur  ;  among 
walls  which  once  echoed  with  an  eloquence  such  as 
rarely,  if  ever,  before  or  since,  fell  upon  the  human 
ear;  of  temples,  which  glittered  with  the  gorgeous 
worship,  and  Avhose  floors  were  stained  with  the 
bloody  and  polluted  rites  of  a  most  degrading  idola- 
try ;  and  of  theatres  and  circuses,  where  assembled 
thousands  poured  out  the  thunders  of  their  acclama- 
tions, and  where  hundreds  poured  out  their  blood, 
and  hundreds  and  hundreds  of  human  victims  were 
immolated,  to  gratify  a  taste  as  ferocious  as  that  of 
the  wild  beasts  that  were  let  loose  in  the  arena,  and 
human  life  was  thrown  away  as  if  it  were  only  water. 
It  is  extremely  difficult  to  conceive  how  a  people,  in 
many  respects  polished  and  refined,  could  find  a 
gratification  in  pleasures  so  barbarous  and  horrible  ; 
but  it  is  a  melancholy  truth  that  no  ainmal  can  be 
brought  to  a  higher,  I  may  say,  to  so  high  a  refine- 
ment in  cruelty,  as  man  himself,  and  that,  too,  to- 
ward creatures  of  his  own  species. 

I  stood  upon  ground  where  kings  and  emperors 
had  stood,  in  all  the  pride  and  pomp  of  power.  I  sat 
down  upon  seats  where  those  had  sat,  who  listened 
to  the  great  masters  of  eloquence,  and  the  great 
teachers  of  wisdom.  I  trod  the  same  road  over  which 
the  chariot  wheels  of  mighty  conquerors  had  passed, 
in  all  the  splendors  of  triumph,  leading  kings,  queens, 


256         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

and  princes  in  chains,  and  bearing  in  their  train  the 
silver  and  golden  trophies  of  victory.  Where  now  are 
they  all  ?  All  this  glory  has  departed ;  all  these 
shouts  have  ceased ;  all  this  splendor  has  become 
darkness  ;  and  thus  the  pride  of  the  proudest  upon 
earth  appears  in  its  true  character,  as  pure,  unmixed 
vanity  and  nothingness. 

I  have  been  here  now  one  week,  and  every  day 
and  hour  has  been  entirely  occupied.  From  what  I 
have  seen,  I  am  sure  six  months  might  be  equally 
occupied.  Ruins,  churches,  statues,  pictures,  palaces, 
museums,  libraries,  convents,  bridges,  arches,  gates, 
villas,  gardens,  studios,  shops,  and  curiosities  of  every 
description,  crowd  upon  you  so  fast,  and  in  such 
numbers,  that  one  is  in  utter  despair  of  seeing  any 
thing  to  advantage  ;  and  you  are  often  compelled  to 
quit  a  museum  or  gallery,  as  you  would  come  out  of 
a  forest,  where  you  had  found  your  way  without  a 
path,  and  without  any  marked  trees,  remembering 
only  that  you  had  seen  trees  of  every  variety,  size, 
shape,  age,  and  foliage,  but  with  scarcely  the  possi- 
bility of  discriminating  between  them,  or  even  of 
finding  your  path  back  again,  if  you  should  attempt 
it.  The  Vatican,  for  example,  contains  four  thou- 
sand four  hundred  and  twenty-two  rooms,  and  sev- 
eral of  its  halls,  thickly  studded  with  sculpture  from 
one  end  to  the  other,  are  so  long  that  you  cannot  at 
one  end  determine,  by  the  dress,  the  sex  of  a  person 
at  the  other  end.  I  did  not  believe  this,  until  with  a 
party  of  gentlemen  who  before  had  ridiculed  the 
statement,  I  found  such  to  be  the  fact. 

I  have  been  fortunate  enough  to  be  here  at  a  great 


LETTER    CLXXIV.  267 

festival,  and  have  seen  the  Pope  hold  his  court,  and 
receive  the  homage  of  all  his  great  men,  in  their  su- 
perlatively splendid  robes  of  office.  He  himself  was 
brought  into  the  church  in  a  magnificent  crimson 
velvet  chair  of  state,  covered  with  gold,  upon  men's 
shoulders.  It  was  as  splendid  and  grand  an  occasion 
as  wealth  and  luxury,  and  genius  and  taste  could 
make  it. 

I  go  on  Monday  to  Naples,  which  I  expect  to  reach 
on  Tuesday.  I  do  not  mean  to  stay  there  more  than 
four  days.  That,  thank  Heaven  !  will  be  the  limit 
of  my  journey ;  and  then  I  return,  by  water,  to  Mar- 
seilles ;  and  thence,  by  land,  through  the  south  of 
France,  to  Paris,  where  I  hope  you  will  next  hear 
from  me.  1  have  most  agreeable  travelling  compan- 
ions, who  will  continue  with  me  to  Genoa  —  an 
English  clergyman  and  two  of  his  pupils.  Love  to 
all,  forgetting  none.     Yours,  ever. 


LETTER  CLXXIV. 


TO    MRS.    B- 


Paris,  12th  September,  1847. 
Mt  Dear  Friexd  : 

I  WISH  you  were  half  as  happy  for  any  thing,  as  I 
am  to  be  able  to  put  the  above  date  to  my  letter  — 
I  mean  the  place  — for  that  shows  me  that  I  may  soon 
hope  to  meet  friends,  whom  I  love  as  I  do  my  life. 
I  do  not  know  that  I  should  object  to  the  time  eiihex  j 


258        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

for  though  it  is  getting  on  with  me  very  fast,  and  I 
am  especially  reminded  of  it  to-day,  as  it  is  my  birth 
day,  yet  that  shows  me  that  I  am  drawing  near  to 
other  friends,  whom  I  loved,  and  though  separated 
from  me,  I  still  love  with  my  whole  heart,  —  who 
finished  their  journey  some  time  ago,  and  are  now,  I 
hope,  enjoying  a  celestial  repose,  and,  what  is  still 
better,  the  deliciousness  of  an  unimbittered  retrospect. 
I  arrived  here  on  Friday  evening  at  near  midnight ; 
and,  after  being  tumbled  about  by  those  horrible 
plagues,  the  custom-house  officers,  to  see  if  I  had  got 
stowed  away,  among  my  old  stockings  and  my  lace 
shirts,  (for  of  late  I  am  compelled  to  wear  nothing 
but  lace  shirts  and  lace  handkerchiefs  and  lace  stock- 
ings, so  mightily  improved  they  become  by  time,) 
any  cigars  or  liquors  —  things  which  I  abhor  —  I  got 
quietly  into  bed ;  but  began  to  doubt  my  personal 
indentity,  when  I  found,  in  the  morning,  that  no  ser- 
vant had  been  rapping  at  my  door  with,  "  Sir,  the 
boat  will  be  off,"  or,  "  The  diligence  will  start  before 
you  can  reach  it,  if  you  do  not  make  haste."  There 
was  that  morning  no  boat,  no  railroad  bell,  no  coach- 
man's horn ;  and,  thanking  God  for  my  deliverance, 
and  for  all  his  mercies,  and  looking  for  a  few  moments 
into  the  bright  eyes  of  all  the  dear  friends  whom  I 
hope  soon  to  see  face  to  face,  I  turned  over,  and,  if 
you  will  believe  it,  slept  quietly  until  eight  o'clock. 
I  then  rose,  in  all  the  health  and  vigor  which  a  man 
ninety-nine  years  old  could  expect  to  enjoy,  and 
could  look  back  upon  a  journey  of  several  thousands 
of  miles,  by  land  and  by  sea,  over  mountains,  and 
through  tunnels  of  the  earth  j  sometimes  with  horses 


LETTER    CLXXIV.  259 

of  flesh  and  blood,  and  sometimes  by  horses  of  fire ; 
by  coach,  by  railroad,  by  boat;  on  horse,  on  foot; 
by  day,  by  night ;  in  lands  civilized,  in  lands  unciv- 
ilized ;  among  honest  men,  among  rogues  more  nu- 
merous :  among  natural  ruins,  among  moral  ruins  far 
more  striking  and  deplorable ;  and  have  escaped 
without  a  single  accident  or  mishap,  abating  the  loss 
of  an  umbrella  and  of  two  handkerchiefs  —  a  sort  of 
experience  which  every  traveller  shares  in  at  Naples. 
I  have  been  at  all  sorts  of  shows ;  in  the  solitudes  of 
disinterred  cities,  where  one  almost  trembles  at  the 
hoarse  echo  of  one's  own  footsteps  ;  and  in  crowds 
so  dense  that  you  could  only  sustain  yourself  by 
putting  your  elbows  to  your  side,  and  leave  yourself 
to  be  borne  along  by  the  waves,  wherever  they  might 
carry  you.  But  of  all  this  I  shall  give  you  a  better 
account,  when,  after  clearing  the  mahogany  of  a 
good  piece  of  old  English  roast  beef,  we  have  the 
pleasure  to  drink  a  health  to  all  good  lassies,  and  to 
say  a  kind  word  to  all  present  and  for  all  absent 
friends. 

But  how  wicked  you  and  Mrs.  T are  !    Both 

of  you  knew  I  was  to  be  here  at  this  time ;  neither 
of  you  has  written  me  a  word  for  more  than  three 

months.     I  wrote  to  Mrs.  T ,  and  sent  a  special 

message  to  you,  that  1  might  find  a  letter  here  on 
my  arrival ;  but  not  a  word  :  so  that  I  do  not  know 
that  I  have  a  single  friend  left  in  England  ;  and  that 
there  has  not  been  another  potato  blight ;  and  that 
they  have  not  gone  off  with  many  of  the  poor  Irish, 
who,  finding,  as  Mr.  Matthews  says,  no  plate  for 
them,  have  departed  to  make  room  for  others,  for 


EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

whom  the  table  may  have  been  laid.  Put  an  end  to 
this  uncertainty.  I  shall  remain  here  probably  a 
month. 

I  received,  on  my  arrival  here,  post-paid,  from 
En  gland,  Wdressed  to  me,  in  a  disguised  or  unknown 
hand,  the  profile  of  a  very  handsome  face,  with  a 
motto,  "  Guess  who  from,"  but  not  another  word.    At 

first,  I  thought  it  must  be  E ,  but  it  was  without 

a  cap,  and,  as  she  is  now  at  the  head  of  so  large  a 
family,  I  could  not  expect  to  see  her  without  that 
matronly  appendage.  It  is  not  you  at  all.  It  is  not 
the  saint  in  College  Street.  It  is  not  from  Highbury 
nor  Camberwell.  I  am  really  in  a  state  of  most 
affecting  uncertainty ;  and  I  can  only  suppose  it  is 
some  handsome  young  girl,  who  wishes  to  use  me  as 
a  marriage  broker,  and  sends  her  likeness  as  a  sample 
for  the  market. 


LETTER  CLXXV. 

Paris,  loth  September,  1847. 
My  Deab  M : 

I  HAVE  seen  Mrs.  R here,  and  she  says  all  are 

well  at  Salem ;  but  at  the  same  time,  gives  me  the 
painful  intelligence  of  the  death  of  Mr.  Merrill.  Mer- 
rill was  an  honest  man,  and  I  always  lived  with  him 
upon  the  most  friendly  terms.  He  had  great  shrewd- 
ness and  great  wit,  but  with  all  this  shrewdness  he 
had  no  treachery,  and  was  entirely  to  be  trusted. 

This  is  a  just  eulogium  upon  a  man  in  a  profession, 
in  which  cunning,  in  many  cases,  is  deemed  virtue  j 


LETTER    CLXXV.  261 

and  where  men,  according  to  the  far  too  general 
practice,  act  upon  the  principle  that  every  man  is 
dishonest ;  and  not  unfrequently,  illustrating  this 
principle  in  their  own  practice,  resort  to  expedients, 
(to  use  no  harsher  term,)  from  which,  under  other 
circumstances,  a  fair  mind  would  instinctively  shrink 
back  with  abhorrence ;  and  wliich,  such  are  the 
strange  anomalies  in  human  character,  they,  in  private 
life,  would  be  among  the  foremost  to  denounce. 

There  are  many  men  in  the  profession  who  rise 
above  its  chicaneries,  and  who  cannot  be  induced  by 
any  miserable  subtleties  and  evasions  and  quibbles, 
to  stifle  truth  and  subvert  justice.  Merrill  and  Sal- 
stonstall,  in  my  opinion,  were  of  high  character. 

I  have  completed  my  Continental  tour,  with  the 
exception  of  one  or  two  small  excursions  ;  the  one  to 
Mettrai,  an  agricultural  establishment  of  great  cele- 
brity, for  young  convicts,  a  day's  journey  from  Paris  ; 
and  the  other  to  the  Islands  of  Jersey  and  Gurnsey, 
on  my  way  to  England,  if  the  weather  admits  of  it. 
I  reached  Paris  four  days  ago,  at  midnight.  There 
are  several  inquiries  which  I  have  still  to  make  here. 
I  have  fixed,  with  God's  blessing,  upon  next  Spring 
to  return  to  the  United  States,  and  remain  quiet  for 
the  rest  of  the  short  evening  which  is  left  to  me. 

I  have  been  at  all  the  places  which  I  intended,  on 
leaving  Paris,  to  visit.  It  would  have  been  greatly 
to  my  advantage  if  I  had  understood  German  and 
Italian,  but  this  is  an  evil  which  I  share  in  common 
with  most  English  travellers.  It  is  extremely  awk- 
ward to  travel  through  a  country  deaf  and  dumb. 
French  was  of  immense  service  to  me.     I  have  been 


262        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

absent  more  than  three  months.  I  have  travelled 
thousands  of  miles.  I  have  been  through  Belgium 
and  Holland  —  up  the  Rhine  and  through  a  consid- 
erable part  of  Germany ;  I  have  been  through  Swit- 
zerland and  a  great  portion  of  France.  I  have  been 
through  Piedmont,  Savoy,  Lombardy,  and  Tuscany, 
and  the  Pontificial  and  Neapolitan  states.  I  have 
been  over  the  Alps,  in  two  directions.  I  have  trav- 
ersed the  Rhine  through  its  whole  length.  I  have 
been  at  Milan,  Venice,  Padua,  Ferrara,  Bologna,  Flo- 
rence, Rome,  Naples,  Leghorn,  Pisa,  Genoa,  Turin, 
Lyons,  up  the  Saone  to  Paris.  1  have  seen  the 
country  and  the  city  ;  visited  farms  and  plantations, 
manufactories,  schools,  prisons,  churches,  palaces, 
galleries,  cemeteries,  markets,  monuments,  living 
cities  and  buried  cities ;  seen  the  pope,  cardinals, 
kings,  queens,  princes,  dukes,  and  nobles ;  and  have 
returned,  through  the  blessing  of  God,  without  a 
single  accident.  Have  I  not  great  reason  to  be 
thankful  ?  I  have  collected  materials  for  a  work, 
"which  may  be  both  interesting  and  useful ;  and  after 
the  completion  of  my  agricultural  work,  which  is  now 
drawing  to  its  close,  I  shall  devote  myself  to  its 
accomplishment.  I  have  had,  however,  too  much 
experience  of  the  uncertainties  of  life  and  health,  to 
indulge  any  sanguine  confidence.     Adieu. 


LETTER    CLXXVI.  263 


LETTER  CLXXVI. 

TO    LADY    S ,    LONDON. 

Paris,  loth  September,  1847. 
Mt  Dear  Lady  S : 

I  DARE  say  you  have  said  more  than  once,  within 
the  l£ist  few  months,  what  has  become  of  Mr.  Col- 
man  ?  I'll  tell  you  what  has  become  of  him ;  and 
I'll  presume  so  much  upon  your  kindness,  and  it  is 
not  presuming  a  great  deal  after  all  the  evidences 
you  have  given  me  of  this  kindness,  as  to  think  you 
have  sometimes  said,  I  should  like  to  hear  from  him  ; 
and  so  you  shall,  my  dear  lady,  with  all  the  good 
will  and  respect  and  kind  remembrances,  that  you 
and  Sit  Francis,  and  your  honored  father,  and  Lady 

F ,  and  those  charming  young  friends  of  mine, 

the  bright-eyed  lassies  of  your  household,  will  please 
accept.  Mind,  I  send  my  love  to  the  young  girls  — 
old  as  I  am,  I  cannot  help  it.  . 

Perhaps  you  think,  after  your  kind  request,  that  I 
should  have  written  before  :  but  you  must  remember 
what  a  whirlwind  I  have  been  in ;  travelling  so 
many  thousands  of  miles,  in  so  few  weeks  ;  seeing  so 
many  persons,  places,  and  things  ;  confounded  with 
as  many  different  tongues  as  were  spoken  at  Babel ; 
and  with  the  smack  of  a  coachman's  whip,  or  the 
rumbling  of  a  diligence  wheel,  or  the  whizzing  and 
buzzing  of  a  steam  engine,  continually  thundering 
in  my  ear.     That  I  have  kept  my  head  upon  my 


264  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

shoulders,  that  I  preserve  a  consciousness  of  my  per- 
sonal identity,  that  I  can  still  make  myself  understood 
in  plain,  honest  English,  are  matters  for  which  I  have 
reason  to  be  devoutly  thankful.  Of  French,  I  know 
something ;  of  Italian,  a  little  ;  of  German,  a  few 
words;  of  Dutch,  only  a  single  word  —  but  how 
much  I  owe  to  a  single  word — vthat  saved  me,  and 
I  shall  never  forget  my  obligations  to  the  Dutch  lan- 
guage. I  went  on  Sunday  from  Leyden  to  Haarlem, 
by  railroad,  to  attend  service  and  hear  the  great  or- 
gan. After  service,  I  strolled  into  another  part  of 
the  city  and  attended  another  service.  I  was  to  go 
back  to  Leyden  at  night,  where  I  had  left  my  friend. 
Unfortunately,  I  lost  my  way,  and  find  the  railroad 
station  I  could  not.  I  tried  English,  that  would  not 
do  —  every  body  looked  grave  and  shook  their  heads  ; 
but  whether  there  was  any  thing  in  them  or  not  I 
could  not  tell.  I  tried  French,  but  with  the  same 
ill  success.  I  made  all  sorts  of  gesticulations  ;  and 
I  dare  say,  by  their  laughing  heartily,  made  myself 
quite  ridiculous  ;  but  nothing  would  do.  I  believe 
at  one  time  they  thought  I  was  begging  for  cold 
victuals,  for  some  of  the  women  seemed  piteously 
disposed  towards  me,  and  would  have  taken  me  by 
the  hand  and  carried  me  in  to  the  second  table,  if 
their  husbands  had  not  been  by.  At  last,  to  my 
great  delight,  I  recollected  seeing,  over  the  railroad 
station,  the  word  "  Spoorweg,"  which  I  concluded 
was  the  Dutch  for  railroad  station  —  a  blessed  reve- 
lation it  was  to  me  —  I  exclaimed,  like  the  Greek 
mathematician,  "Eureka!  Eureka!"  I  tried  the 
word ;  still  fearing  that  I  might  fail  in  the  pronunci- 


LETTER    CLXXVI.  265 

ation  ;  but,  to  my  great  joy,  the  key  fitted  the  lock. 
I  said  spoorweg  to  every  man,  woman,  and  child  I 
met ;  and  by  means  of  this  single  word,  I  at  last 
found  my  way  back  to  the  station,  just  as  the  whis- 
tle for  the  last  train  was  sounding.  But  for  this,  I 
do  not  know  that  I  should  not  have  been  in  the 
streets  of  Heiarlem  until  this  time,  and  I  shall  bless 
the  word  spoorweg,  as  a  talisman,  all  the  rest  of  my 
life. 

The  organ  at  Haarlem  is  an  instrument  of  immense 
power ;  but  in  the  ordinary  service  of  the  church 
this  power  is,  of  course,  not  fully  displayed.  The 
church  to  which  it  belongs  was  formerly  a  cathedral 
church.  It  is  now  a  Presbyterian  or  Congregational 
meeting-house.  I  did  not  understand  one  word  of 
the  service.  The  congregation  put  on  their  hats 
during  the  preaching ;  and,  though  not  cold,  foot- 
stoves  were  universally  furnished.  I  was  struck 
with  the  singular  incongruity  of  the  decoration  on  an 
ambitious  monument  to  some  naval  commander, 
which  was  surmounted  with  a  representation  of  Nep- 
tune with  his  trident,  drawn  by  dolphins  and  sur- 
rounded by  sea-nymphs,  which  seemed  somewhat  of 
an  anomaly  in  a  Christian  church.    ' 

As  to  the  Dutch  men  they  are  really  a  set  of  boors, 
a  reputation  which  they  have  always  had  ;  but  I 
wished,  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart,  I  had  known 
a  few  other  soft  words  to  have  said  to  the  Dutch 
women  and  girls,  they  were  so  pretty.  I  think  some 
of  them  the  fairest  and  handsomest  creatures  I  ever 
looked  upon,  and  made  of  the  finest  unmixed  porce- 
lain clay.     Before  I  left  England,  I  thought  the  Eng- 

VOL.    11.  12 


266         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

lish  women  the  fairest  I  had  ever  seen  —  I  now  con- 
sider them  as  belonging  to  the  colored  races.  The 
Dutch  women  much  exceed  them.  Take  the  fairest 
rose  that  was  ever  plucked,  witli  the  glittering  dew- 
drops  hanging  among  its  petals ;  take  the  fairest 
peach  that  ever  hung  upon  the  tree,  with  its  charm- 
ing blended  tints  of  red  and  white,  and  they  are 
eclipsed  by  the  transparency  and  beauty  of  complex- 
ion of  the  fairest  of  the  Dutch  women,  as  I  saw  them 
at  Broeck  and  at  Saardam.  If  their  minds  are  as 
fair,  and  their  manners  as  winning  as  their  faces,  then 
I  can  easily  understand  the  history  of  Adam's  fall. 
It  was  impossible,  poor  fellow,  that  he  should  resist. 
Then  their  costume  is  so  pretty  and  elegant.  A  sort 
of  thin,  gold  helmet,  fitting  close  to  the  head,  leaving 
enough  of  the  hair  to  part  gracefully  over  the  brows ; 
a  thin,  but  wide  band  of  highly  wrought  and  bur- 
nished gold,  extending  across  the  forehead ;  at  the 
ends  of  this,  some  most  rich  and  elegantly  wrought 
filagree  ornaments  of  gold,  with  splendid  ear-drops  of 
gold,  or  of  diamonds  set  in  gold,  with  a  beautiful  cap 
of  the  finest  Brussels  lace,  covering,  but  not  conceal- 
ing, the  whole  head  ;  and  all  the  rest  of  the  dress  of 
vestal  purity;  white,  tasteful,  transparent,  with  short 
coats,  shoes  as  bright  as  mirrors,  and  stockings  of  the 
purest  white,  and  fitting  the  ancle  as  if  they  were 
knit  upon  the  limb  ;  with  no  drabbling  train  to  sweep 
the  pavement,  and  no  oversized  shawl,  and  loose  and 
ill-fitted  sleeves  and  skirts,  hanging  about  the  person, 
like  clothes  upon  an  old  tree  on  a  washing-day,  and 
you  'II  have  some  faint  notion  of  what  one  of  these 
beautiful  creatures  is. 


LETTER   CLXXVI.  267 

I  have  finished  my  tour  on  the  Continent.  I  have 
floated  quietly  on  the  Dutch  canals;  followed  the 
beautiful  Rhine  from  its  mouth  to  its  source  ;  gazed 
with  delight  in  the  pellucid  waters  of  Lake  Con- 
stance, worshipped  at  the  foot  of  Mont  Blanc,  as  one 
of  the  noblest  columns  of  God's  earthly  temple ; 
crossed  the  Alps  by  that  magnificent  enterprise  of 
human  power  and  skill,  the  Simplon  ;  seen  Milan  and 
its  splendid  Cathedral,  itself  a  marble  garden ;  sailed 
among  the  desolate  palaces  of  Venice  ;  seen  Padua, 
Ferrara,  Bologna ;  revelled  in  the  galleries  of  Flor- 
ence, the  very  temple  of  genius ;  sat  down  upon  the 
sublime  ruins  of  the  Colosseum,  at  Rome,  and  walked 
under  the  triumphal  arches  of  the  proudest  of  the 
Roman  emperors ;  seen  Vesuvius,  in  all  the  glory  of 
an  eruption,  with  torrents  of  liquid  fire  rolling  down 
its  sides  ;  stood  upon  the  leaning  tower  of  Pisa,  with- 
out its  falling  ;  admired  the  cities  of  Genoa  and 
Turin ;  and  here  I  am,  once  more,  in  this  gayest, 
brightest,  and  handsomest  of  all  cities. 

Pray  be  kind  —  it  is   your   nature  —  you   cannot 
help  being  kind,  and  let  me  know  how  you  all  are. 

1  heard  of  Lady  F en  route  ;  but  it  was  like  the 

passage  of  a  comet,  and  so  rapid  that  even  the  glitter 
of  the  train  escaped  me.  I  seemed  always  a  day  too 
late.     Adieu. 


268  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 


LETTER  CLXXVII. 

Paris,  16th  September,  1847. 
My  Dear  A : 

This  morning  has  brought  me  the  letters  of  the 
30th  June  and  30th  July,  with  sundry  postscripts, 
and  almost   a  whole,  and  a   charming    letter    from 

E ,  which,  depend  upon  it,  shall  not  remain  long 

unacknowledged.  I  have  literally  devoured  these 
letters,  and  still  feel  hungry,  like  a  famishing  man 
who  has  only  had  half  a  meal,  since  no  letters  have 
come  for  me  by  the  last  boat. 

I  have  to  thank  God,  upon  my  knees,  and  with 
my  whole  soul,  that  a  journey  of  many  thousands 
of  miles  by  land  and  by  sea,  amidst  a  thousand  perils 
and  dangers,  has  been  accomplished  without  accident 
to  life  or  limb  or  health,  and  with  a  success  in 
respect  to  its  objects  as  great  as  I  could  desire.  As 
it  respects  despatch,  I  have  been  fortunate  in  having 
the  entire  control  of  my  own  movements.  I  have 
found  no  difficulty  in  regard  to  language,  though  it 
would  be  scarcely  possible  to  travel  without  French, 
and  I  have  hardly  been  a  day  without  some  agreea- 
ble travelling  companion,  with  whom  my  intercourse 
has  been  friendly,  instructive,  and  entertaining.  In 
many  of  the  cities  I  found  acquaintances,  who  either 
knew  me  personally  or  by  name,  and  I  have  come 
fully  to  thfe  conclusion  that  I  should  be  the  last  per- 
son to  run  away  with  any  hope  of  concealment  or 
escape. 


LETTER    CLXXVII.  269 

My  journey  has  been  crowded  to  excess  with  ob- 
jects of  interest ;  agricultural,  moral,  political,  literary, 
social  interest.  My  head  has  been  full ;  my  heart 
has  often  been  more  full.  I  have  seen  men  in  their 
most  exalted ;  I  have  seen  them  in  their  most  degraded 
condition.  I  have  seen  cities  rising  in  wealth  and 
splendor,  and  embellished  with  all  the  glories  of  art 
and  genius,  and  I  have  seen  the  broken  fragments  and 
dilapidated  ruins  and  skeletons  of  cities  and  empires, 
which  once  concentrated  all  the  splendors,  as  in  one 
blazing  point,  which  a  wealth  unbounded,  and  a 
luxury  whose  refinements  taxed  human  desires  and 
genius  to  their  utmost,  could  supply. 

I  hardly  know  what  to  speak  of,  for  it  seems  to 
me  it  would  require  a  year's  conversation  to  detail 
my  adventures,  or  rather  the  objects  which  have 
come  under  my  observation  in  the  last  four  months. 
The  accumulations  of  the  works  of  art,  of  pictures 
and  statues,  would  almost  make  an  Egyptian  pyramid. 
Some  of  the  pictures  and  statues  seem  to  approach  a 
creative  power,  and  one  stands  before  them  in  breath- 
less admiration.  Perhaps  you  will  ask  me  what  I 
admire  most.  Of  all  the  statues,  the  most  beautiful 
seems  to  me  to  be  Venus  Victorious,  as  it  is  called, 
Canova's  statue  of  Pauline,  the  sister  of  Napoleon, 
and  wife  of  the  Prince  Borghese  at  Rome.  I  prefer 
it  even  to  the  Venus  de  Medici.  It  is  more  modest, 
and  it  is  wrought  with  a  skill  and  taste  which  are 
transcendent.  Of  pictures,  I  give  the  preference  to 
Madonna  della  Seggiola,  by  Raphael ;  the  children 
are  celestial.  You  have  a  copy  of  this  celebrated 
picture  in  your  neighborhood. 


270        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

If  you  ask  me  what  city  I  prefer,  I  answer,  I  had 
rather  live  in  London,  because  I  have  so  many  kind 
friends  there,  and  it  is  more  like,  and  is  in  truth 
nearer  home ;  but  Paris  in  beauty,  adornment,  all  the 
luxuries  of  life,  all  the  gaieties  of  life,  all  the  splen- 
dors of  life,  is  before  it.  All  the  luxury  I  am  now 
panting  for,  however,  is  the  luxury  of  embracing  you 
all.  If  God  grants  me  that  blessing  in  health  and 
peace,  I  shall  be  gayer  than  all  the  gaieties  of  Paris 
crowded  into  one  bright  spot,  and  if  I  must  die  in  an 
hour  after,  your  bright  eyes,  pouring  their  kind  rays 
upon  your  old  father,  will  make  it,  I  verily  believe, 
the  most  splendid  hour  in  his  life. 

I  am  sorry  to  hear  of  your  indisposition.  I  think 
constantly  of  those  who  are  left  to  us,  and  of  those 
who  have  left  us,  and  I  console  myself  with  the 
delightful  persuasion  that  we  are  still  one  family, 
and  shall  meet  again  to  mingle  hearts  and  minds. 
Adieu. 


LETTER  CLXXVIII. 


TO    MRS.    M- 


Paris,  17th  September,  1847. 
My  Deab  Fhiend  : 

Here  I  am  once  more  ensconced  in  a  Parisian 

garret  au  cinquieme,  where  I  have  lit  in  my  pigeon's 

flight  from  Italy ;    and   you,  I   suppose,  are  quietly 

seated,  —  stay,  I  beg  pardon  —  that  word  quietly  can 

never  apply  to  you  but  in  a  very  qualified  sense  ; 


LETTER    CLXXVIII.  271 

well,  bustling  about,  then,  saying  agreeable  things, 
doing  kind  actions,  fulfilling  the  duties  of  a  good 
wife,  and  showing  off  to  the  admiring  natives  the 
feathers  and  silks  and  ribbons  and  caps  which  you 
carried  home  ;  every  week,  I  have  no  doubt,  coming 
out  with  something  original,  for  you  cannot,  as  yet, 
have  got  through  with  half  that  you  took  away,  and 
even  if  that  great  feat  had  been  accomplished,  with 
your  exquisite  skill,  and  by  the  simple  rule  of  permu- 
tation and  combination,  I  have  no  doubt  you  could 
produce  some  new  display  every  week  for  two  years 
to  come  ;  and  then,  according  to  the  clerical  rule  of 
turning  up  the  barrel,  you  could  easily  begin  with  the 
original  articles  and  continue  to  appear  the  gayest 
among  the  gay,  and  lead  the  fashion  for  half  Boston. 
A  friend  of  ours  always  agreed  with  me  that  you 
dressed  with  great  taste,  especially  in  that  blue  velvet 
mantle  and  that  charming  bonnet,  with  the  white 
plumes  hanging  so  gracefully  over  the  side.  He  was 
so  much  affected  by  it,  as  in  one  case  to  inquire  of 
me  with  a  good  deal  of  interest,  what  I  consider  the 

chance  of  Mr.  M 's  recovery,  and  he  came  very 

near  breaking  the  tenth  commandment.  I  confess 
my  own  ideality  was  much  excited  and  gratified  by 
the  exhibition,  but  my  conscientiousness  and  rev- 
erence and  caution  were  somewhat  alarmed,  and 
being  a  grave  man,  I  felt  that  such  vanities  hardly 
became  a  lady  who  had,  I  believe,  passed  her  teens, 
and  got  into  her  tyes.  I  could  not  help  thinking, 
sometimes,  "  that  fine  feathers  make  fine  birds ;  " 
but,  then,  I  recollected  that  in  this  case,  the  bird 
'  would  have  been  fine  without  the  feathers,  and  I  was 


272  EUKOPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

persuaded  that  your  good  sense  and  experience  would 
keep  alive  your  discretion,  and  in  spite  of  appear- 
ances, prevent  your  being  carried  away  with  these 
carnal  vanities.  But  how  truly  glad  I  should  be  to 
see  you,  whether  it  were  in  the  velvet  bonnet,  with 
white,  waving  plumes,  or  even  in  a  common  Shaker's 
cotton  cap,  without  that  elegant  Brussels  lace,  which 
ornamented  those  you  carried  from  this  celestial 
region  of  taste  and  fashion.  In  the  impossibility  of 
this,  however,  pray  let  me  hear  from  you,  how  you 
are,  and  where  you  are ;  and  when  I  talk  of  yoii,  I 
mean  both  parts  of  you,  the  right  and  the  left  side. 
I  should  be  quite  delighted  to  hear  that  the  corporate 
body  is  sound  throughout.  The  Scripture  says,  I 
think,  that  "they  twain  shall  be  one  flesh;"  and  I 
never  knew  so  well  the  very  close  relation  between 
man  and  woman  as  since  I  have  been  in  Italy.  I 
have  often  read  with  admiration  the  account  in 
Genesis  of  the  creation  of  woman.  In  Italy  I  have 
seen  at  least  four  pictorial  representations  of  this 
great  event.  I  had  always  supposed  that  the  rib  was 
taken  out  entirely  before  the  moulding  of  this  exqui- 
site chef  d^ceuvre  began,  but  the  artists  do  not  agree 
with  me  in  this  matter ;  and  in  Brussels  and  Milan, 
she  is  represented  as  rising  out  of  the  side  of  the  man 
like  a  green  branch  springing  out  of  the  side  of  a 
tree  which  has  fallen  down.  In  one  ,case  she  is  all 
out  but  her  feet ;  and  when  I  recollected  some  of  her 
beautiful  descendants,  such  as  Taglioni,  Elssler,  or 
Grisi,  I  knew  she  could  not  have  staid  long  in  that 
position.  I  could  not  help  thinking  of  the  case  of  the 
profane  story  of  the  Irishman  who  employed  the  priest  ' 


LETTER    CLXX7III.  273 

to  pray  his  friend  out  of  purgatory.  In  the  course  of 
the  operation  the  priest  demanded  more  money,  and 
Paddy  very  naturally  demanded  what  had  been  done. 
The  priest  replied  that  he  had  got  him  all  out  but  his 
legs ;  "  An  faith,"  said  Paddy,  "  I  have  known  Mike 
often  in  the  bog,  and  if  he  has  got  as  far  out  as  that 
you  may  let  him  alone  for  making  his  way,  for  the 
d — 1  himself  can't  keep  him."  But  this  is  a  mere 
episode ;  and  all  this  history  and  all  these  pictures 
seemed  wholly  designed  to  represent  the  intimate  and 
mutual  dependence  of  the  sexes ;  and  knowing,  my 
dear  lady,  "  the  rock  out  of  which  you  have  been 
hewn,"  I  hope  you  will  not  be  led  astray  by  any  of 
the  vanities  of  this  world  from  your  proper  duty,  but 
will  continue  to  love,  honor,  and  obey,  according  to 
the  commandment. 

The  passage  up  the  Rhine  was  everywhere  de- 
lightful ;  the  scenery  was  varied ;  the  hills  generally 
approached  close  to  the  water,  their  steepest  accliv- 
ities cultivated  to  the  very  summits  ;  and  we  passed 
continually  villages  and  towns  on  the  river's  brink, 
and  the  bristling  hills  at  every  town  on  the  river 
were  surmounted  with  the  ruins  of  some  ancient 
castle,  the  residence  of  bishops  and  feudal  lords,  who 
lived  as  freebooters,  by  plundering  the  unfortunate 
voyagers  upon  the  river. 

The  accommodations  for  travelling  were  every- 
where excellent,  whether  at  hotels,  in  the  cities, 
or  by  steamboat  or  railroad,  and  we  found  every- 
where passengers,  sometimes  English  and  sometimes 
French,  accessible,  and  disposed  to  be  communica- 
tive.    I  was   often   compelled    to   acknowledge,   in 

VOL.  12* 


374  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

such  cases,  that  no  travelling  equipage  which  a  man 
can  take  with  him  is  half  so  valuable  as  invariable 
good  manners  and  imperturbable  good  temper ;  and 
these  on  the  part  of  my  fellow  voyagers,  I  constantly 
found. 

I  never  performed  a  kind  service  for  any  one  with- 
out being  manifoldly  compensated.  I  offered,  on  a 
foggy,  chilly  morning,  my  travelling  cloak  to  two 
ladies  who  sat  shivering  on  the  deck  of  the  boat, 
which  broke  the  ice  afterwards  for  some  conversa- 
tion. I  found  in  the  end  that  they  were  persons  of 
distinction  from  Paris,  a  mother  and  a  daughter,  with 
a  servant,  speaking  fluently  French,  English,  German, 
and  Italian.  Being  familiar  with  travelling,  they 
kindly  gave  me  the  most  valuable  directions  as  to 
my  route,  and  being  Catholics,  apprized  me  of  a  great 
fete  of  the  church,  to  be  witnessed  in  Rome  in  the 
beginning  of  August,  which  otherwise  I  might  have 
missed. 

True,  in  Rome  and  Naples,  as  Curran  said  in 
another  case,  if  the  fleas  had  been  unanimous,  they 
would  have  rolled  me  out  of  bed ;  but  I  slept  on  in 
spite  of  them  ;  and  I  could  not  but  reflect  with 
grateful  satisfaction,  that  I  could  by  any  humble 
instrumentality,  either  in  the  way  of  subsistence  or 
enjoyment,  be  of  service  to  the  meanest  of  the  animal 
creation,  and  keep  up  that  bright  chain  of  mutual 
dependence  and  subserviency  which  prevails  as  a 
universal  law  among  all  animal  existences. 

Every  thing  seemed  to  favor  my  enterprise.  I  saw 
every  new  moon  over  my  right  shoulder.  At  Flor- 
ence, in  honor  of  the  birth  of  a  prince,  we  had  a 


LETTER    CLXXVIII.  275 

grand  Te  Detim,  and  the  magnificent  dome  of  the 
cathedral  was  illuminated.  At  Rome,  it  was  the 
Feast  of  the  Assumption  of  the  Virgin,  whom  I 
would  have  thanked  if  1  could  have  got  near  her.  I 
saw  the  pope  in  his  gown  and  slippers,  with  cardi- 
nals and  princes  kissing  the  embroidered  shoe,  and 
stood  uncovered  among  the  thousands  who  were 
watching  for  the  dew  of  his  blessing  under  the  great 
balcony.  At  Naples,  Vesuvius  got  up  the  finest 
erruption  which  has  been  for  years,  illuminating  the 
whole  glorious  concave  with  her  bursting  flames, 
sending  blazing  rocks  high  into  the  air,  and  pouring 
down  her  sides  floods  of  liquid  fire.  I  went  on  to 
Leghorn  and  Pisa,  and  thence  to  Genoa,  —  Genoa, 
where  those  sylphs  float  about  the  streets  in  their 
white  veils,  models  of  perfect  grace  and  aeriality. 
From  Genoa,  I  crossed  the  magnificent  and  snow- 
clad  Alps  for  a  second  time,  in  the  meantime  stop- 
ping in  Turin,  one  of  the  best  ordered  cities  in  the 
world,  and  climbing  a  lofty  summit  to  view  the 
magnificent  cemetary  of  the  Sardinian  kings,  and, 
what  is  far  better,  to  feast  my  eyes  on  the  rich  valley 
of  Piedmont.  But  I  cannot  go  on.  This  is  only  a 
taste, — it  is  not  even  a  tziste.  I  shall  serve  up  a 
full  meal  presently,  and  shall  invite  you  with  other 
friends,  to  my  table-cV  hole;  do  not  disdain  my 
humble  fare,  I  promise  you  my  best ;  who  can  do 
more  ? 

A  kind  word  from  you  and  Mr.  M will  do  my 

heart  good.     Ask  Mr.  M to  read  to  you  what 

Cicero  says  of  letters  ;  that  I  hope  will  be  my  apology 
for  this  cumulus  ineptiarum.     Yours  truly. 


276        EUKOPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 


LETTER  CLXXIX. 


TO    MISS    A.    J.,    BOSTON. 

Paris,  ISth  September,  1847. 
Mt  Dear  Miss  J : 

I  HAVE  at  last  finished  my  Continental  tour,  and 
send  you  an  early  and  friendly  greeting  from  the  city 
where  I  have  passed  in  your  society  so  many  agree- 
able hours.  I  miss  you,  I  assure  you,  most  sensibly; 
and  I  often  pass  your  house  with  a  wish  that  I  might 
meet  you  and  my  good  friend,  your  brother,  ere  long, 
in  our  common  home.  I  can  easily  understand  how 
much  a  lady,  with  your  fierceness  of  patriotism  — for 
such  I  think  I  have  a  right  to  call  it,  and  it  seems  by 
some  strange  accident  to  have  taken  root  in  your 
gentle  nature — must  enjoy  on  her  arrival  at  home 
after  an  absence  of  years ;  and  I  dare  say  you  never 
saw  in  all  your  travels,  any  skies  so  transparent,  any 
rocks  so  picturesque,  any  fields  so  verdant,  any 
waters  so  clear,  and  any  surf  so  phosphorescent  as 
that  at  Nahant.  So  much  for  the  spectacles  of  an 
entire  and  hearty  patriotism.  I  should  regret  to  dis- 
turb your  charming  illusions.  But  I  cannot,  for  the 
life  of  me,  drink  the  toast  which  was  so  heartily 
received,  and  so  loudly  cheered,  at  Philadelphia  — 
"Our  country  —  Our  country,  right  or  wrong."  I 
wish  as  ardently  as  you  do,  that  my  country  might 
be  always  right,  but  I  can  never,  under  any  circum- 


LETTER    CLXXIX.  277 

stances,  wish  success  to  what  I  deem  wrong,  unjust, 
and  wicked  ;  and  as  the  best  cure  for  individual  and 
national  folly  is  suffering,  what  the  hymn  calls 
"  wholesome  draughts  of  unaffected  pain,"  I  have  no 
objection  to  the  administration  of  the  medicine,  where 
the  patient  is  in  a  dangerous  way,  and  no  other  effec- 
tual remedy  presents  itself.  I  think,  with  your  sound 
and  excellent  judgment,  which,  if  you  will  allow  me 
to  say  it,  I  consider  as  one  of  the  best  elements  of 
your  mind,  you  will  revise  your  casuistry  in  this  case, 
and  be  found  among  the  last  persons  who  should 
desire,  under  any  circumstances,  that  that  which  is 
essentially  wrong  should  triumph, 

I  returned  six  days  ago  from  my  most  delightful 
tour,  which  I  have  made  without  a  single  drawback 
or  accident  to  health  and  limb.  I  have  everywhere 
had  good  conveyances,  good  accommodations,  and 
good  company ;  have  experienced  innumerable  acts 
of  good  will ;  have  suffered  none  of  the  impositions 
of  which  travellers  usually  complain  ;  have  not  been 
robbed  nor  murdered,  as  I  was  told  I  might  be ;  and 
have  not  died  of  the  malaria,  as  I  was  gravely  fore- 
warned I  might  do,  if  I  went  to  Rome  in  summer. 
I  went  first  to  Belgium ;  the  crops  were  magnificent 
beyond  any  thing  I  ever  saw  before.  I  went  next 
into  Holland.  I  had  heard  from  my  youth  of  the 
stupid  Dutchmen,  but  it  seems  to  me  no  people 
before,  ever  accomplished  such  magnificent  enter- 
prises, defying  the  ocean  and  robbing  him,  under  his 
very  teeth,  of  a  territory  large  and  fertile  beyond  all 
calculation.  I  went  to  the  field  of  Waterloo,  all 
stained  with  human  blood,  and  enriched  by  the  bones 


278  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

of  slaughtered  thousands.  Ah !  said  I  to  myself, 
how  miserably  do  such  conquests,  full  of  untold  and 
incalculable  wretchedness,  compare  with  those  con- 
quests over  nature,  which  are  designed  to  sustain  life 
and  to  multiply  the  sources  of  human  subsistence 
and  enjoyment.  I  threaded  the  beautiful  Rhine 
from  its  mouth  to  its  source,  and  admired  the  won- 
derful efforts  of  human  industry,  which  had  carried 
the  triumphs  of  cultivation  up  the  steepest  acclivities, 
g.nd  to  heights  where  birds  of  the  loftiest  flight  felt 
themselves  secure  from  all  human  approach.  I  ad- 
mired Frankfort ;  and  offered  an  idolatrous  worship  to 
the  Ariadne  of  Dannecker,  a  master-piece  of  art. 

I  passed  through  the  cities  of  Basle,  Berne,  and 
Fribourg,  making  due  pauses  at  each,  and  rested  at 
Vevay,  on  the  Genevan  lake.  You  have  no  doubt 
.been  at  Vevay,  and  let  me  say  a  word  of  this  most 
beautiful  of  all  spots  on  which  my  eye  has  ever 
rested.  I  am  told  that  Byron  speaks  of  its  beauty  as 
enchanting,  but  I  did  not  require  his  testimony. 
Nothing  ever  appeared  half  so  beautiful  as  the  view 
from  my  chamber  window ;  the  mirrored  lake,  with 
its  transparent  and  cerulean  waters,  rivalled  in  clear- 
ness by  nothing  but  the  waters  of  the  Michilimack- 
inak  ;  the  winding  and  indented  shores  of  the  lake, 
with  the  charming  villages  with  their  white  roofs, 
which  adorned  the  side  hills  ;  the  dark  forests,  which 
here  and  there  presented  themselves  ;  and  above  all, 
the  lofty  and  snow-clad  summits  of  a  long  range  of 
Alps,  which  formed  the  back  ground  of  the  picture, 
and  when  lighted  up  by  the  sun  rising  in  all  his 
glory,  seemed  only  a  kindling  blaze  running  along 


LETTER    CLXXIX.  279 

the  whole  of  their  varied,  and  undulating,  and  sub- 
lime outline,  gilding  them  with  a  celestial  brilliancy, 
awakened  in  my  heart  such  an  enthusiasm  of  admi- 
ration and  delight,  as  can  die  out  within  me  only 
when  all  sense  and  all  memory  expire. 

Thence  I  traversed  the  mountains  of  Switzerland, 
penetrated  its  most  savage  seclusions,  revelled  in  its 
delicious  valleys,  reposed  on  its  clear,  green,  and 
flowery  turf,  by  the  side  of  its  gushing  crystal 
springs  ;  &.nd,  under  a  July  sun,  waded  knee  deep  in 
its  eternal  snows  ;  looked  the  Jungfrau  full  in  the 
face,  and  worshipped  at  the  foot  of  Mont  Blanc, 
among  its  glittering  glaciers,  pillaring  the  arches  of 
Heaven.  I  crossed  the  Siraplon,  that  monument  of 
a  transcendent  courage  and  ambition,  which  seemed 
to  defy  the  elements.  I  gave  my  heart  up  to  delight, 
in  the  verdant  plains  of  Lombardy,  chequered  with 
flowers,  festooned  with  vines,  and  rich  in  the  fruits 
of  Eden.  I  sailed  among  the  silent  palaces  of  Ven- 
ice, listening  to  almost  the  only  indications  of  life, 
the  echo  of  the  gondolier's  oar.  I  visited  Padua  and 
Bologna,  and  saw  their  scholastic  halls,  where  learn- 
ing has  slept  so  long  and  so  soundly  in  the  arm-chair 
of  the  early  centuries.  I  went  to  Florence  —  its 
galleries,  its  palaces,  and  even  its  streets,  glittering 
with  the  gems  of  genius.  I  reached  at  last  the 
Eternal  city  ;  and  how  my  heart  leaped  within  me 
when  I  first  caught  sight  of  St.  Peter's  dome,  and 
above  all,  when  I  sat  down  on  the  dilapidated  walls 
of  the  Colosseum,  listened  to  the  Eolian  winds 
sweeping  through  its  desolate  ruins,  passed  under 
the  triumphal  arches  of  Rome's  proudest  emperors, 


280  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

where  conquering  and  conquered  princes  had  so  often 
passed  before  me  ;  and  above  all,  when  I  stood  where 
Cicero  uttered  the  electric  shouts  of  patriotism,  and 
denounced  the  treason  and  the  traitor,  and  where 
assembled  thousands  quivered  under  his  indignant 
and  immortal  eloquence.  From  Rome  I  went  to 
Naples,  so  transcendantly  beautiful  in  its  natural 
scenery,  so  hideous  in  its  moral  aspects.  I  saw  Ve- 
suvius in  all  the  glory  of  an  eruption,  sending  its 
magnificent  out-bursts  of  flame  high  into  the  air,  and 
illuminating  the  vast  concave,  and  then  pouring  its 
streams  of  lava  down  its  sides,  like  tresses  of  liquid 
fire  hanging  about  its  neck,  I  visited  the  disinterred 
cities  of  Pompeii  and  Herculaneum,  and  trod  the 
streets,  where  I  almost  trembled  at  the  echo  of  my 
own  footsteps,  which  once  rang  with  the  noisy  voices 
of  busy  and  happy  thousands.  I  tried  to  carry  my 
imagination  back  two  thousand  years,  and  then 
asked  myself  what  has  since  been  gained  for  human 
knowledge,  virtue,  and  improvement ;  but  this  was  a 
great  question,  which  it  would  take  years  to  answer. 
In  the  common  arts  of  life,  it  would  seem  but  little ; 
in  the  arts  which  adorn  life,  perhaps  nothing^  in 
morals,  if  Naples  must  be  the  standard,  nothing ;  in 
religion,  if  Italy  must  answer,  only  the  substitution 
of  one  kind  of  idols  for  another.  From  Naples  I 
came  to  Leghorn,  Pisa,  Genoa,  Turin,  Lyons,  Paris. 
Here  I  remain  a  month,  to  finish  my  inquiries,  and 
then  to  London.  Make  all  kind  regards  to  my  good 
friend,  your  brother.     Now  adieu  — au  revoir. 


LETTER    CLXXX.  281 


LETTER  CLXXX. 

Paris,  18th  September,  1847. 
Mt  Dear  S : 

My  candles  burn  very  dimly,  and  my  eyes  seem 
even  to  be  more  dim,  for  I  did  not  see  my  bed  until 
two  o'clock  this  morning  ;  but  I  feel  so  strongly  that 
before  I  sheep  I  should  like  to  have  a  little  chat  with 
you,  that  I  shall  attempt  it,  and  rely  upon  your  kind- 
ness to  accept  what  is  well  intended  for  what  must 
be  imperfectly  executed. 

I  have  thought  a  thousand  times,  on  my  journey, 
how  much  you,  with  your  susceptibility  and  enthu- 
siasm, would  have  enjoyed  had  I  had  the  happiness 
of  your  society,  and  how  much  of  pleasure  there  is 
in  store  for  you.  I  think  I  was  fortunate  to  have 
accomplished  my  journey  as  I  did  ;  and  I  should  not 
be  at  all  surprised  if  the  perturbed  political  condition 
of  Italy  should  render  travelling  there,  for  a  while, 
unsafe  and  impracticable.  I  supposed,  at  first,  that 
the  disaffected  elements  were  all  at  Rome,  where 
there  seemed  little  prospect  of  any  decisive  move- 
ment ;  but  farther  observation  satisfies  me  that  the 
combustible  matter  is  very  widely  extended  through 
all  the  Italian  governments,  and  that,  if  an  explosion 
occurs,  it  will  be  universal.  The  indignation  against 
Austria,  in  the  Italian  states  is  intense  ;  but  if  a  revo- 
lution should  take  place,  what  is  to  be  the  result  ? 
Some  persons  think  the  establishment  of  a  republi- 


282        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

can  or  democratic  form  of  government.  But  this 
seems  not  possible  ;  the  people  are  not  qualified  for 
it;  it  would  not  last  a  week.  Besides,  democracy 
and  liberty  appear  to  me  wholly  inconsistent  with 
the  Roman  Catholic  religion ;  and  as  to  changing 
that,  it  is  quite  as  hopeless  a  task  as  it  would  be  to 
undertake  to  throw  down  the  largest  of  the  Egyp- 
tian pyramids.  The  people  of  Italy  are,  as  a  mere 
traveller  sees  them,  a  most  degraded,  filthy,  lazy, 
improvident,  and  unprincipled  population.  In  Rome, 
and  especially  in  Naples,  they  are  disgusting  and  de- 
testable, without  the  shadow  or  even  pretence  of  a 
moral  sense,  and  are  wholly  incapable  of  a  free  or 
republican  government.  If  the  cities  of  Pompeii  and 
Herculaneum  were  as  corrupt  as  Naples  obviously  is 
—  and  some  monuments  which  have  been  found  in 
the  ruins  would  seem  to  indicate  an  enormous  gross- 
ness  of  manners — the  world  lost  little  by  their 
destruction.  My  visit  to  these  disinterred  cities  was 
full  of  interest.  Little  of  Herculaneum  has  been 
uncovered,  because  it  was  destroyed  by  a  substance, 
which,  when  cold,  is  like  the  hardest  stone ;  but 
much  of  Pompeii,  which  was  buried  in  a  driving 
storm  of  ashes  and  cinders,  has  been  disclosed, 
because  the  filling  up  is  comparatively  easy  of  re- 
moval. Probably,  however,  not  a  tenth,  perhaps  not 
a  twentieth  part  of  the  city  has  been  disinterred  ;  the 
process  is  still  going  on  ;  and  they  have  an  interested 
object  in  the  slow  and  gradual  disinterment,  that  pub- 
lic curiosity  may  be  kept  awake,  and  strangers  attract- 
ed to  the  place,  by  a  constant  discovery  of  something 
new.     The  furniture  found  in  the  houses  of  Pompeii, 


LETTER    CLXXX.  283 

of  which  there  is  vast  collections  in  the  museums  of 
Naples  —  I  mean  especially  their  cooking  and  domes- 
tic utensils,  which  were  composed  of  imperishable 
materials  —  show  that  those  people  were  as  far 
advanced  as  we  are  in  the  common  arts  of  life. 
Their  multiplied  apartments,  with  their  enclosed  gar- 
dens, and  piazzas,  and  baths;  their  beautiful  foun- 
tains and  candelabras  ;  their  mosaic  pavements,  and 
their  painted  walls,  upon  which,  in  some  cases,  the 
colors  retain  all  their  original  vividness  and  freshness ; 
and,  above  all,  the  jewelry,  the  precious  stones,  the 
gold  ornaments,  bracelets,  rings,  ear-rings,  and  cameos, 
of  the  most  exquisite  beauty,  which  no  modern  speci- 
mens, that  I  have  seen,  approach, — evince  their 
extraordinary  luxury.  Sonie  of  these  jewels  and 
rings  were  found  upon  the  necks  and  fingers  of  the 
skeletons,  which  were  disclosed  in  a  posture  evident- 
ly of  extreme  terror  ;  and  a  collection  of  money  was 
found  in  the  clenched  grasp  of  one  skeleton  —  but  he 
could  only  have  had  a  momentary,  if  he  had  any 
consciousness  of  its  utter  worthlessness  in  circum- 
stances like  those  —  a  striking  lesson,  however,  for 
those  who  came  after  him.  Some  most  beautiful 
statuary  has  been  found  both  in  Herculaneum  and 
Pompeii,  which  confirm  that  of  which  we  have  many 
other  monuments  and  examples,  i.  e.,  the  extraordi- 
nary progress  of  the  ancients  in  the  almost  divine  and 
creative  art  of  sculpture.  I  do  not  think  much  more 
will  be  done  at  excavating  Herculaneum.  The  dis- 
covery of  the  city  was  made  by  sinking  a  well,  when 
at  eighty  feet  they  came  to  the  theatre ;  you  can 
easily  infer  under  what  a  depth  it  lies  buried.     A  city 


284  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AN1>    MANNERS. 

now,  likewise,  is  built  over  it,  so  that  farther  excava- 
tions cannot  go  on  without  endangering  the  houses 
and  palaces  of  the  living.  Pompeii  was  covered  only 
by  about  twenty  feet  of  ashes,  and  you  walk  upon  a 
level  of  much  of  the  surrounding  country  directly 
into  .the  streets. 

Vesuvius,  the  destroying  monster,  is  a  grand  object, 
combining  both  sublimity  and  beauty  in  a  degree 
which  fills  you  with  admiration.  I  was  very  impa- 
tient to  get  sight  of  it  some  time  before  I  reached 
Naples.  It  is  visible,  at  sea,  a  great  distance  ;  but  by 
land,  I  was  not  gratified  with  the  sight  of  it,  until 
within  a  few  miles  of  the  city.  At  first,  the  view 
fell  much  short  of  my  expectations  ;  it  seemed  — for 
I  had  then  a  full  recollection  of  the  mighty  Alps 
upon  my  mind  —  only  a  considerable  mountain  of  a 
conical  form,  with  a  magnificent  turban  of  clouds,  in 
graceful  folds,  rolled  round  its  head.  In  the  evening 
however,  every  thing  was  changed.  My  chamber 
window  opened  directly  upon  the  beautiful  bay  of 
Naples,  and  Vesuvius  was  full  in  front  of  me.  I  sat 
upon  the  balcony  long  after  midnight,  and  got  up 
several  times  every  night,  while  I  staid  there,  to  wit- 
ness its  sublime  explosions,  which,  at  short  intervals, 
sent  its  showers  of  burning  stone  and  balls  of  fire 
high  up  in  the  air,  and  then  poured  its  rivers  of  fire 
down  its  side.  The  sight  can  never  be  erased  from 
my  mind,  while  any  thing  remains  there,  as  an 
image  of  power  and  terror,  before  which  human  im- 
potence must  crouch  in  trembling  silence.  Yours 
truly. 


LETTER    CLXXXI.  285 


LETTER  CLXXXI. 

TO    A    YOUNG    FRIEND. 

Paris,  19th  September,  1847- 
Mt  Dear  E : 

I  HAD  a  charming  note  from  you,  in  a  postscript  to 
the  letter  of  your  dear  grandmother,  which  you  see 
I  make  as  li'ttle  delay  as  possible  in  acknowledging. 
A  prompt  reply  is  always  to  be  regarded  as  an  indi- 
cation of  our  sense  of  the  value  of  what  we  receive  ; 
you  must  consider  it  so  in  my  case,  and  regard  it  as 
having  increased  weight  from  my  multiplied  cares. 
It  is  very  kind  in  you  to  be  so  thoughtful  of  your 
old  grandfather,  who  responds  to  your  affection  with 
his  whole  heart. 

How  long  it  is  since  I  have  see  you !  I  some- 
times try  to  imagine  how  you  look.  I  am  aware 
what  extraordinary  changes  young  girls  pass  through 
in  the  transition  state,  from  teen  to  ty^  and  I  am 
equally  aware,  if  my  absence  is  much  longer  extend- 
ed, that  I  may  find  it  difficult  to  recognize  my  dear 
little  grandchild  in  my  granddaughter  —  the  little 
wild  hoiden  of  twelve  and  fourteen  in  the  staid  young 
lady  of  eighteen  and  twenty.  Yet,  I  cannot  help 
thinking  there  will  be  something  or  other,  by  which, 
without  speaking,  we  shall  find  each  other  out.  I 
am  old  and  decayed  ;  the  foliage  all  gone  at  the  top  ; 
and  what  few  leaves  remain  below,  bearing  all  the 
searness  and  yellowness  of  autumn,  and  only  waiting 


286         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

a  strong  wind  to  scatter  the  whole.  You  are  all 
fresh  and  green ;  full  of  swelling  buds  and  gently 
opening  flowers ;  and  advancing,  in  the  steady  pro- 
gress of  time,  to  the  maturity  of  life  and  womanhood. 
If  the  old  tree  could  speak,  he  would  tell  you  how 
much  he  admires  your  expanding  growth  j  and  how 
his  hopes  expand  with  your  expansion  ;  and  with 
what  delight  he  looks  forward  to  the  maturity  and 
perfection  of  one  of  the  richest  plants  in  the  wide  gar- 
den of  nature,  (for  such  always  is  a  virtuous  young 
woman,)  which,  under  the  blessing  of  that  Good 
Husbandman  who  alone  can  give  the  increase,  shall 
be  fruitful  in  that  which  shall  delight  the  moral  eye 
by  its  beauty,  feast  the  moral  taste  by  its  sweetness, 
and  prove  a  nutriment  of  moral  life  and  health  to  all 
who  are  permitted  to  partake  of  it. 

I  hear,  from  every  one,  how  much  you  are  beloved 
by  your  friends,  and  what  happiness  and  consolation 
your  father  and  mother  and  grandmother  find  in  your 
aflfection,  kindness,  and  duty.  This  fills  me  with 
delight,  and  makes  my  heart  run  over  with  pleasure 

and  hope.     I  say  nothing  of and ,  whom 

you  know  I  love  so  dearly;  but  the  image  of  my 
departed  idol,  the  aunt,  whom  you  were  too  young 
to  know,  is  continually  fresh  in  my  memory ;  and  I 
believe  I  should  die  satisfied,  if  I  could  see,  in  you, 
my  dear  E ,  a  reflection  of  her  innocence,  kind- 
ness, and  loveliness.  I  looked  forward  to  some  years 
of  her  society  as  the  consolation  and  delight  of  my 
life.  I  was  too  proud  of  her ;  of  the  beauty  of  her 
person,  the  sweetness  of  her  manners,  the  quickness 
and  vivacity  of  her  mind.     Heaven  saw  fit  to  rebuke 


LETTER    CLXXXI.  287 

my  pride ;  and  the  cup  fell  broken  from  my  hands, 
just  as  I  began  to  inhale  its  fragrance  and  taste  its 
sweetness.  I  do  not  complain.  She  is  in  Heaven  ; 
and  I  have  reason  to  be  envied  in  the  blessings  which 
have  been  left  to  me. 

I  did  not  intend  to  have  virritten  you  so  grave  a 
letter,  but  I  have  let  my  pen  follow  and  not  guide 
my  thoughts.  Your  mother's  letter  will  have  told 
you  how  my  journey  has  prospered.  I  have  seen  a 
great  many  pretty  girls  since  I  have  been  gone  ;  and 
if,  when  I  come  back,  I  think  they  are  handsomer 
than  the  Salem  girls,  I  will   tell  you.     In  Power's 

studio,  at  Florence,  I  saw  the  bust  of  ,  and  [ 

have  seen  nowhere  any  thing  handsomer.  The  bust 
is  a  good  likeness,  and  was  immediately  recognized. 
It  is  too  old  for  her,  which  seemed  to  me  the  only 
fault ;  but  that  is  a  fault  which  time  will  remedy. 

The  female  costumes  of  many  of  the  countries 
through  which  I  have  passed,  are  peculiar,  and  do 
not  change.  They  have  been  the  same  for  centuries. 
This,  I  know,  is  bad  for  milliners,  and  dress-makers, 
and  French  modistes  ;  but  one  cannot  help  looking 
at  it,  on  account  of  its  antiquity,  with  peculiar  pleas- 
ure. The  costumes  of  the  Dutch  women,  with  their 
exquisite  laces,  and  gold  ornaments,  and  white  mus- 
lin aprons,  of  as  fine  a  fabric  as  a  spider's  web,  are 
charming.  The  Swiss  girls,  with  their  large  bonnets 
cocked  upon  one  side  —  or  rather  a  sort  of  broad- 
brimmed  hat,  and  tied  by  a  gay  bow  high  up  under 
the  ear  —  have  an  archness  and  slyness,  so  nearly 
bordering  upon  impudence,  though  it  is  not  impu- 
dence, that  it  is  quite  difficult  to  look  grave  when 
you  meet  them.     The  women  at  Fribourg  wear  a 


288         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

red  handkerchief  tied  over  the  head  in  the  most 
graceful  manner  possible.  In  many  parts  of  Italy, 
the  women  wear  upon  their  heads  what  resembles  a 
large  napkin  folded  square,  several  folds  resting  upon 
one  another  on  the  top  of  the  head,  and  one  open 
fold  hanging  down  behind.  Their  bodices,  and  their 
blue  and  red  petticoats,  made  so  short  as  to  display 
the  blue  stocking  with  a  beautifully  wrought  clock 
to  it,  I  must  tell  you  about  some  other  time.  The 
Milanese  women  go  clattering  about,  without  any 
heels  to  their  shoes,  and  oftentimes  with  the  toes  cut 
off,  so  that  the  slipper  or  sandal  has  nothing  but  a 
sole  held  by  a  band  across  the  widest  part  of  the  foot. 
The  Genoese  costume  is  extremely  beautiful.  The 
women  dress  their  elegant,  glossy,  black  hair  in  the 
neatest  manner,  psirting  it  over  the  forehead.  They 
wear,  about  half  way  over  the  head,  a  white  veil  of 
the  finest  muslin,  extending  below  the  hips,  and  held 
by  one  hand  under  the  chin,  and  every  thing  about 
them  is  as  neat  as  possible.  They  walk  perfectly 
erect,  only  touching  the  forward  part  of  the  foot  to 
the  ground,  which  is  a  habit,  I  think,  formed  from 
their  city's  being  built  upon  a  side  hill,  and  many  of 
the  streets  being,  like  those  of  Providence,  quite 
steep.  At  any  rate,  no  persons  can  walk  more  beau- 
tifully. The  grave  clergyman,  who  was  my  com- 
panion, several  times  turned  round  with  me  to  look 
at  them,  after  we  had  passed  them ;  and  we  both 
agreed  that  we  never  saw  more  grace  and  beauty  in 
person  and  movement.  Whether  two  such  old  fel- 
lows are  any  judges  of  grace  and  beauty,  I  do  not 
pretend  to  say.  Our  wives,  some  years  ago,  thought 
we  were.     Yours  truly. 


LETTER    CLXXXII,  289 


LETTER   CLXXXII. 

TO    MY    FRIENDS    UNDER    BEREAVEMENT. 

Paris,  19th  September,  1847. 
Dear  R and  A : 

My  religious  creed,  in  regard  to  the  Divine  Provi- 
dence, may  be  said  to  be  reduced  to  a  single  line  ;  but 
that  line  is  as  comprehensive  as  human  language  or 
human  imagination  can  make  it,  and  radiant  with 
Heaven's  brightest,  purest,  fullest  light  —  "God  is 
good  —  He  is  the  sum  and  perfection  of  all  goodness 
—  He  is  the  combination,  the  concentration,  the  very 
essence  of  love."  I  scarcely  know  another  proposition 
in  theology,  which  does  not  admit  with  some  minds 
of  some  debate  which  is  so  complete  in  its  evidence 
that  no  one  asks  for  more,  that  does  not  require  some 
qualification,  or  upon  which  I  can  rest  my  whole 
heart  without  some  demur,  or  in  some  circumstances 
of  health  and  spirits,  without  some  shadow  of  distrust, 
or,  if  not  that,  a  secret  wish  that  my  faith  might  be 
increased.  But  nothing  of  this  sort  applies  to  the 
above  simple  proposition,  that  God  is  good;  He  is 
all  Love,  He  is  Love  only.  I  read  it  like  a  scroll 
upon  the  heavens,  in  letters  of  living  and  unchanging 
light.  I  meet  it  in  every  green  field,  and  every 
populous  city,  where  countless  millions  revel  in  the 
Divine  bounty.  I  saw  the  record  of  it  upon  the 
very  summits  or   mountains  clad  in  eternal  snows, 

VOL.    II.  13 


290 


EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 


where  all  animal  existence  is  defied,  those  mighty 
reservoirs  of  fertility  to  the  wide-stretching  and  pro- 
ductive plains  below,  where  such  infinite  and 
uncounted  multitudes  find  health  and  sustenance. 
My  passage  across  the  ocean,  that  profound  abode  of 
animal  life,  a  tithe  of  which  probably  has  not  yet 
come  within  human  discernment,  that  separating, 
yet  strange  to  say,  connecting  bond  of  the  nations  of 
the  earth,  and  destined  yet  to  unite  them  in  one 
great  family,  and  become  the  medium  of  the  univer- 
sal diffusion  of  the  richest  blessings  which  have  ever 
fallen  to  the  lot  of  the  most  favored,  read  daily  les- 
sons to  me  of  the  goodness  of  God.  But  then,  my 
personal  experience  is  so  much  more  touching,  my 
whole  life  has  been  a  continued,  uninterrupted,  unde- 
served succession  of  His  mercies.  In  my  busiest,  in 
my  most  solitary  hours,  in  my  most  cheerful,  and  in 
my  most  distressed  moments,  in  my  hours  of  health, 
in  my  hours  of  bitterest  pain  and  sickness,  when  life 
hung  only  by  a  hair,  when  new  friends  have  been 
given  to  me,  when  old  friends  have  been  taken  from 
me,  when  I  have  been  compelled  to  lay  in  the  grave 
what  to  me  had  a  preciousness  infinitely  beyond  the 
power  of  language  to  express,  I  have  felt  always,  — 
my  conviction  has  never  wavered,  never  has  had  even 
the  slightest  cloud  over  it  —  the  unutterable  and 
unchangeable  goodness  of  God.  I  never  lie  down 
upon  my  bed  without  feeling  the  precious  security  of 
such  a  friend,  to  whom  I  commit  my  soul.  I  never 
wake  in  the  morning,  but,  before  my  eyes  are  half 
open,  or  my  tongue  can  utter  a  word,  I  find  this 
mighty  triumph  of  faith  struggling  within  me  ;    and 


LETTER    CLXXXII.  291 

many,  many  is  the  time,  when,  under  its  oppressive 
and  delicious  conviction,  I  can  find  relief  for  my 
heart  only  in  tears  of  grateful  joy.  When  I  am 
wretched  under  the  conviction  of  my  deficiencies,  my 
ungrateful  returns,  my  imperfect  performances,  and 
my  many  sins,  which  always  appear  to  me  like  crimes, 
when  I  think  against  whom  I  have  sinned,  then  I 
have  not  a  second's  peace,  until  I  fly  to  Him  and  pour 
out  my  sorrows  before  Him.  When  I  think  of  His 
goodness,  I  am  often  tempted  to  get  down  upon  my 
knees  in  the  streets  and  thoroughfares,  to  say  how 
much  I  feel  it.  I  do  not  like  to  speak  of  these  things ; 
I  do  not  like  to  tell  my  experience ;  I  know  how 
sacred  it  should  be  kept,  but  I  felt  that  it  was,  perhaps, 
the  best  consolation  I  could  offer  to  you,  under  that 
season  of  darkness  which  has  come  over  you  ;  and 
that,  at  least,  the  expression  of  my  sympathy  even  in 
this  form,  would  not  be  unwelcome. 

I  do  not  know  why  children  are  taken  away  when 
the  promise  is  brightest  and  our  hopes  are  strongest. 
I  do  not  know  why  they  are  taken  away  at  all.  I 
do  not  know  why  there  is  sickness,  or  pain,  or  death, 
in  this  world.  Life  and  death,  because  of  our  igno- 
rance, are  full  of  mysteries.  But  this  I  do  know, 
that  God  is  good,  and,  when  my  heart  aches  most,  I 
press  this  blessed  talisman  to  it,  and  it  is  sure  to 
relieve  me.  You,  my  dear  friends,  cannot  be  ignorant 
of  its  value.  Your  views  of  religion  rest  wholly 
upon  it.  It  is  the  very  rock  upon  which  you  build 
your  faith,  and  all  the  consolations  of  Christianity 
grow  out  of  it,  and  derive  their  value  from  it.  May 
God  bless  you  both,  and  add,  day  by  day,  in  respect; 


292        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

to  you,  more  and  more  of  the  revelations  of  this  pre- 
cious truth. 

S has,  I  dare  say,  told  you  of  my  progress.    I 

am  glad,  once  more,  to  have  reached  a  spot,  where  my 
communications  with  the  best  friends  I  ever  had,  and 
the  best  that  a  man  could  ever  have,  will  be  direct, 
short,  and  certain.  I  go  to  London  in  all  next  month, 
for  the  winter.  I  do  not  ask  you  to  let  me  hear  from 
you ;  you'll  do  it,  of  course.  I  have  grown  dreadfully 
old,  and  I  fear,  a  good  deal  childish ;  for  the  remem- 
brance of  my  friends  over  the  water  so  blinds  me, 
that  I  can  hardly  see  to  subscribe  myself  yours 
affectionately. 


LETTER  CLXXXIIL 

TO    MRS.    B ,    LONDON. 

Paris,  22d  September,  1847. 
My  Dear  Mes.  B : 

I  REGRET  exceedingly  to  hear  of  your  indisposition. 
From  your  account,  I  think  it  must  be  neuralgia,  of 
which  there  are  some  alleviations,  but  I  fear  no  cure. 
I  have  no  great  confidence  in  physicians.  There  are 
men  in  all  the  learned  professions,  who  are  the  glory 
of  their  nature,  and  who  live  wholly  to  do  good,  and, 
thank  God,  succeed  in  doing  good;  but  I  am  sorry  to 
believe,  that  the  abuses  of  the  influence  which 
superior  education,  and  intelligence,  and  learning, 
give  men,  are  as  numerous  as  those  of  wealth  or  rank, 


LETTER    CLXXXIII.  293 

or  civil  or  military  power.  In  spite  of  all  this,  I  must 
remain  contented  with  the  full  enjoyment  of  the 
right  of  private  opinion.  The  world  will  go  on  as  it 
is.  I  can  mend,  I  can  alter  nothing ;  and  as  I  see 
not  the  slightest  hope  of  any  great  or  permanent 
advance  or  improvement  in  the  human  character  or 
condition,  I  will  try  to  wait  with  what  patience  I 
can,  until  the  grand  mystery  of  human  existence  on 
eeirth  is  unfolded,  and  see  what  is  to  come  of  what 
Mr.  Fox,  M.  P.,  would  call  these  "heavings  and  aspi- 
rations of  humanity  after  good."  Perhaps  you  will 
think  that  to-day  with  me  is  cloudy,  and  the  wind 
is  East. 

I  go  next  week  to  Mettray,  to  see  the  agricultural 
school  for  young  convicts  ;  and  a  friend  has  engaged 
me  to  make  several  agricultural  visits  to  that  neigh- 
borhood. Paris  appears  to  me  more  beautiful  than 
ever,  and  the  finest  city  I  have  seen  ;  I  put  my  per- 
sonal attachments  and  English  friends  entirely  out  of 
the  question.  There  cannot  be  a  better  people  than 
the  best  of  the  English  people,  and  I  know  many  of 
the  best  of  them.  But  I  will  suppose  myself  an 
entire  stranger  to  French  and  English,  and  allowed 
to  form  an  unbiased  conclusion ;  and  I  should  not 
hesitate  to  say  that  the  French  are  as  honest  in  all 
their  dealings  as  any  other  people,  and  that  in  civil- 
ization, and  in  all  the  common  arrangements  of  life, 
for  comfort  and  public  order,  they  are  almost  une- 
qualled. Do  not  be  ofiended.  Let  us  look  at  these 
matters  in  the  calm  light  of  philosophy,  and  aim  to 
form  honest  and  impartial  conclusions.     Yours  truly. 


294         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 


LETTER  CLXXXIV. 

Paris,  29th  September,  1847. 
Mt  Dzak  M : 

To-morrow  I  leave  by  railroad,  for  Orleans  and 
Tours.  I  go  to  Tours  for  the  purpose  of  seeing  an 
agricultural  establishment  which  has  great  celebrity. 
Count  de  Gourcy  is  to  meet  me  with  a  carriage  in 
the  neighborhood.  We  are  then  to  make  a  visit  at 
the  Marquis  de  Gourcy's  and  at  several  places  in  the 
vicinity,  where  he  says  I  shall  get  much  information 
and  receive  much  pleasure.  His  civility  and  atten- 
tions have  been  great  and  unremitting.  I  made  hiS" 
acquaintance  as  soon  as  I  came  to  Paris ;  and  he  is  a 
well-informed  and  most  estimable  person.  I  speak 
French  with  some  hesitation  ;  but  as  I  understand  it 
when  spoken,  my  visit  will,  I  have  no  doubt,  be 
agreeable.  The  environs  of  Paris  are  very  pleasant, 
abounding  in  gardens,  vineyards,  villages,  private 
houses,  and  palaces,  traversed  in  various  directions, 
and  in  a  serpentine  course,  by  the  Seine.  Of  the 
interior  of  France,  excepting  on  its  Alpine  borders,  I 
have  not  seen  much  ;  but  what  I  have  seen  has  im- 
pressed me  favorably  ;  and  though  the  agriculture  of 
France  is  entirely  different  from  that  of  England, 
and  on  account  of  the  dryness  of  its  climate,  it  lacks 
that  deep  and  perennial  verdure  which  England  and 
Ireland  present,  yet  the  country  is  by  no  means  defi- 
cient in  good  cultiva'tion  and  in  beautiful  landscapes. 


LETTER    CL.XXXIV.  295 

The  French  peasantry  are  a  much  better  looking 
class  of  people  than  the  English,  and  I  believe  are 
altogether  better  fed  and  better  clad.  In  contrast 
with  the  dirty,  ragged,  unwashed,  and  half-clad 
Italians,  they  appear  to  be  another  race  of  beings. 
Every  one  speaks  of  the  French  as  a  treacherous  and 
hypocritical  race,  without  morals  and  without  reli- 
gion —  mere  frog-eaters,  fiddlers,  and  monkies.  I  do 
not  believe  there  ever  were  grosser  slanders.  For 
myself  I  can  say,  that  I  have  not  met,  in  all  my  in- 
tercourse with  the  French,  a  single  act  of  incivility  ; 
nor  am  I  conscious  of  having  been  imposed  upon  in 
any  case  or  in  any  matter  whatever ;  and  that  the 
civility,  and  I  will  add,  the  kindness  of  the  great 
mass  of  the  people,  are  preeminent  and  characteristic. 
I  attended  last  week  the  great  fete  and  fair  of  St. 
Cloud,  and  I  chose  to  stay  until  the  evening,  and 
until  the  whole  affair  might  be  said  to  be  in  full 
blast.  It  was  the  last  day  of  the  fair,  which  con- 
tinues about  three  weeks;  and  as  the  magnificent 
water- works  of  St.  Cloud  play  on  that  afternoon,  an 
immense  concourse  was  collected.  It  is  difiicult  to 
speak  of  numbers,  but  I  probably  should  not  exag- 
gerate if  I  said  there  were  fifty  thousand  people 
there.  There  were  shops,  booths,  restaurants,  cafes, 
ball-rooms,  roundabouts,  swings,  railroads,  shooting- 
matches,  games  of  various  kinds,  and  dances  and 
concerts.  I  staid  until  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening. 
I  went  into  the  thickest  of  the  crowd  ;  to  the  booths, 
the  concerts,  the  ball-rooms.  Now  let  me  tell  my 
experience  :  I  did  not  meet  a  single  individual,  man, 
woman,  or  child,  who  was  not  clean  in  their  appear- 


296  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

ance,  well-dressed,  and  well-behaved.  I  did  not  see 
a  single  individual  who  was  in  the  slightest  degree 
intoxicated.  I  did  not  see  a  single  quarrel,  or  dis- 
pute, nor  a  single  act  of  rudeness  or  indecorum.  I 
did  not  see  a  single  person  who  could  be  recognized 
as  a  dissolute  person,  or  who  gave  me  any  leer  or 
sign,  which  would  indicate  such  a  character.  I  paid 
five  sous  to  go  into  one  of  the  little  theatres,  and 
nothing  could  be  more  orderly  than  the  behavior  of 
the  crowd  in  the  place,  and  in  going  in  and  coming 
out.  I  knew  that  at  eleven  o'clock  every  thing 
would  be  closed  quietly.  I  heard  no  swearing,  no 
loud  shouting,  or  talking,  and  saw  nothing  but  happy 
faces,  radiant  with  kindness.  I  was  delighted  to  see 
so  much  enjoyment ;  not  all  of  it  of  a  very  refined 
kind,  because  the  people  were  not  all  of  a  refined 
character ;  but  all  of  it  harmless  and  innocent ;  and 
I  thank  God  that  pleasure  is  so  cheap  ;  that  there  are 
pleasures  adapted  to  every  class  of  minds ;  and  that 
if  they  could  not  be  happy  in  one  way  they  could  in 
another;  and  one  great  duty  of  religion  is,  in  my 
opinion,  to  be  as  happy  as  we  can  be  ourselves,  with 
innocence,  and  without  injury  to  others  ;  and  to  make 
those  around  us,  if  possible,  happier  than  ourselves.  I 
could  not  dance  myself  because  I  am  too  old  and  stifi". 
I  did  not  think  the  dancing  always  graceful  or  taste- 
ful. Waltzing,  in  my  opinion,  excepting  among 
brothers  and  sisters,  is  always  to  be  condemned, 
though  practiced  here  in  a  manner  as  little  objection- 
able as  among  the  refined  circles.  But,  though  I 
could  not  dance  myself,  yet,  if  I  had  known  how, 
and  there  had  been  occasion,  I  would  have  played 
the  violin  for  others  to  dance  by. 


LETTER  CLXXXr.  297 

The  trains  went  very  often,  and  I  do  not  know- 
that  there  were  not  a  thousand  persons  in  the  train 
by  which  I  returned,  but  there  was  not  the  slightest 
disorder  or  crowding,  in  getting  the  tickets  or  taking 
the  places.  All  this,  certainly,  speaks  well  for  the 
Parisians.     Adieu. 


LETTER  LXXXV. 

Paris,  Uth  October,  1847. 
Mt  Dear  M : 

When  I  last  wrote  to  you,  I  was  proposing  a  jaunt 
into  the  country  with  the  Count  de  Gourcy ;  that  I 
have  accomplished  in  the  most  agreeable  manner,  he 
having,  by  appointment,  met  me  at  Tours,  about 
one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  from  Paris,  and  we  trav- 
elled together  in  a  gig,  by  railroads,  and  by  coaches, 
for  several  days,  visiting  many  ancient  palaces  and 
several  families  of  the  old  noblesse,  and  especially 
seeing  much  more  of  the  agriculture  and  rural  man- 
ners of  France  than  I  could  possibly  have  done  in 
any  other  way. 

I  was  in  the  midst  of  the  land  of  grapes,  travelling 
for  miles  and  miles,  and  day  after  day,  through  vine- 
yards loaded  with  their  rich  products,  and  seeing 
hundreds  and  hundreds  of  men,  women,  and  chil- 
dren, gathering  the  most  abundant  harvest  which  has 
been  known  for  years.  I  have  never  seen,  so  far  as 
they  have  come  under  my  observation,  a  more  civil, 
clean,  well-dressed,  happy  set  of  people  than  the 
French  peasantry,  with  scarcely  an  exception  ;  and 

VOL.    II.  13* 


29S        EUROPEAX  LIFE  AXD  MANNERS. 

they  contrast  most  strongly,  in  this  respect,  with  the 
English  and  the  Scotch.  I  seldom  went  among  a 
field  of  laborers  in  England  or  Scotland,  especially 
if  they  were  women,  without  some  coarse  joke,  or 
some  indecent  leer;  at  least  it  has  happened  to 
me  many  times ;  and  seldom  without  being  solic- 
ited for  something,  "  to  drink  your  honor's  health  ;  " 
and  never,  especially  in  Scotland,  without  finding 
them  sallow,  haggard,  bare-footed, ragged,  and  dirty.' 
Ip  France  it  is  the  reverse ;  they  are  well  clad,  with 
caps  as  white  as  snow,  or  neat  handkerchiefs  tied 
around  their  heads  ;  the  men  with  neat  blouses  or' 
frocks,  and  good  hats  ;  I  have  scarcely  ever  seen  a 
bare-footed  or  bare-legged  woman  in  France  ;  let 
them  be  doing  what  they  will,  they  are  always  tidy  ; 
the  address  even  of  the  poorest,  (I  do  not  at  all  exag- 
gerate,) is  as  polite  as  that  of  the  best  people  you 
find  in  a  city ;  and  so  far  from  ever  soliciting  money, 
they  have  refused  it  in  repeated  instances,  when  for 
some  little  service  I  have  offered  some  compensation  ; 
Count  de  Gourcy  told  me  again  and  again,  that  even 
the  most  humble  of  them  would  consider  it  as  an 
oftence  to  have  it  offered  to  them.  I  do  not  believe, 
there  ever  was  a  happier  peasantry  than  the  French  ; 
drunkenness  is  entirely  unknown  among  them  ;  and 
they  are  preeminent  for  their  industry  and  economy. 
I  went  into  one  field,  with  a  large  farmer,  where 
there  were  nearly  a  hundred,  principally  women  and 
children,  gathering  grapes,  and  1  did  not  see  one 
among  them,  whom  I  should  not  have  been  perfectly 
■willing  to  have  met  at  table,  or  in  any  other  situa- 
tion. 


LETTER    CLXXXVI.  t99 

I  visited  several  plain,  substantial  farmers,  and 
several  of  the  old  nobility.  They  do  not  live  in  the 
same  splendor  as  the  English ;  they  have  not  so  many 
horses  and  carriages  and  servants ;  but  they  live  ele- 
gantly. Their  houses  are  most  comfortable,  and 
their  tables  are  covered  with  more  luxuries  than  I 
almost  ever  saw  before  brought  together  in  the  same 
abundance. 

My  journey ings  are  now  ended,  and  I  am  progres- 
sing with  my  work.  My  apartments,  though  very 
high,  are  very  humble.  I  shall  remain  here  as  long 
as  I  can  work  to  advantage. 

My  English  friends  invite  me,  and  promise  me  a 
hearty  welcome.  One  of  them  commands  me  to 
come  directly  to  his  house,  and  make  it  my  home ; 
but  this  of  course  I  cannot  do,  though  the  invitation 
is,  I  have  no  doubt,  given  in  good  faith.  The  situa- 
of  England  is  critical,  and  the  result  is  uncertain. 
Adieu. 


LETTER  CLXXXVI. 

Paris,  1st  November,  1847. 
My  Dear  M : 

Having  finished  my  joumeyings,  I  hope  nothing 
will  interfere  to  prevent  the  satisfactory  completion 
of  my  enterprise.  I  am  too  old  to  have  entire  confi- 
dence in  any  thing  future,  but  I  will  at  least  hope  for 
the  best. 

For  the  last  month  I  have  been  breakfasting  like 


300        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

a  prince.  By  the  way,  I  get  my  own  breakfast 
rather  than  make  the  servant  travel  up  five  pair  of 
stairs.  But  that  to  which  I  particularly  refer,  in  this 
case,  has  been  the  delicious  grapes,  which  I  have  had 
upon  my  table  every  morning,  sometimes  for  ten, 
oftener  for  eight  and  six,  and  frequently  for  four  sous 
or  cents  per  pound.  They  have  been  as  much  for  my 
health  as  my  pleasure.  The  season  for  grapes  will 
probably  continue  a  fortnight  longer.  France  is  full 
of  the  most  delicious  fruit ;  and  the  apples  and  pears 
seem  almost  unrivalled.  I  saw,  this  morning,  in  the 
market,  plenty  oi  gTeen  peas,  stinng  heajis,  and  straw- 
berries.     Mind  you,  this  is  the  first  of  November. 

I  am  cured  of  all  my  prejudices  against  the 
French,  with  which  1  came  from  England  fully 
freighted.  I  expected  to  starve  here,  and  did  at  first 
almost  starve,  from  a  fear  of  the  cooking ;  but  since 
I  have  seen  the  markets  and  meat  shops,  I  must  say 
that,  excepting  Philadelphia,  I  have  seen  nothing 
equal  to  them  in  point  of  neatness,  both  in  the  arti- 
cles they  sell  and  the  appearance  of  the  persons  who 
sell  them,  and  I  have  ceased  to  have  any  fears  of 
being  poisoned,  or  of  having  any  thing  served  up  in 
an  oifensive  or  improper  form.  In  all  these  respects, 
the  French  are  before  most  other  people. 

Paris  is  a  fine,  clean,  and  well  regulated  city  ;  and 
the  French  people  seem  to  me  the  best  behaved,  the 
best  dressed,  the  most  economical,  the  most  industri- 
ous, the  most  sober  people  that  I  have  known ;  and 
certainly  they  are  the  gayest  and  happiest  people. 
The  English  constantly  call  them  frivolous  and 
insincere ;  a  letter  I  got  from  a  friend  last  week, 
speaks  of  them  this    way ;  but  if  frivolous   means 


LETTER    CLXXXVII.  301 

being  pleased  with  trifles,  I  can  only  say,  that  it  is  a 
great  blessing  to  have  that  kindness  and  cheerfulness 
of  disposition  which  can  be  pleased  with  trifles.  As 
to  their  sincerity  and  honesty,  I  have  yet  seen  no 
want  of  it,  and  am  not  aware  of  having  been  imposed 
upon  in  France  in  any  way  whatever.  The  weather 
here  is  most  delightful.  My  first  fire  I  made  last 
evening,  and  that  was  only  to  air  my  new  chamber. 
I  need  none  to-day.     Adieu. 


LETTER  CLXXXVII. 

TO    F B ,    ESQ. 

Paris,  20th  November,  1847. 
Mt  Dear  Sir: 

Half  an  hour  ago  I  received  your  interesting 
letter,  and  I  at  once  acknowledge  it.  You  must  have 
thought  me  unfaithful  to  my  word,  in  not  finding  a 
letter  from  me  at  Geneva.  I  wrote  to  you  a  long 
one,  and  directed  it  to  the  Poste  restante,  in  that 
city,  according  to  my  engagement.  But  I  confess 
my  surprise  is  not  that  letters  miscarry,  but  that  they 
usually  proceed  with  so  much  certainty.  Your 
course,  as  well  as  mine,  must  have  been  highly  inter- 
esting ;  and  you  must  have  seen  many  places^  to 
more  advantage  than  the  rapidity  of  my  transit  per- 
mitted me  to  do ;  but  I  confess  I  hardly  know  how 
you  could  have  contented  yourself  so  long  as  ten 
days  at  Pisa,  which,  with  the  exception  of  the  Lean- 


303         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

ing  Tower,  the  Cathedral,  and  the  Campo  Santo, 
seemed  to  have  little  that  was  attractive.  However, 
the  neighborhood  was  pleasant,  and  the  view  from 
the  Tower,  after  one  became  reconciled  to  the  posi- 
tion, was  .most  splendid.  You  made,  I  think,  a 
judicious  alteration  in  your  plans  after  I  left  you,  as 
you  told  me  you  should  stay  a  week  at  Cologne  and 
should  not  stop  at  Bonn.  Two  nights  at  Cologne 
were  certainly  ample,  and  Bonn,  I  think,  has  many 
attractions,  besides  its  excellent  hotel,  which  seemed 
to  have  only  one  abatement,  and  that  was,  having 
the  stable  under  the  same  roof  with  the  chamber  in 
which  I  lodged.  Whether  they  considered  me  as 
part  horse  and  part  man,  or  took  me  for  an  ostler  by 
profession,  who  would,  of  course,  find  himself  more 
at  home  in  such  company  than  anywhere  else,  I 
cannot  say ;  but  I  can  say  that  the  odor  and  noise  of 
the  horses  were  neither  of  them  at  all  to  my  taste. 
As  to  the  dead  monks,  which  one  gives  a  shilling  to 
see  at  the  Kreutzberg,  I  think  it  a  positive  offence 
against  public  decency  to  exhibit  such  disgusting 
fragments  and  ruins  of  humanity.  Nothing  certainly 
is  to  be  gained  by  such  an  exhibition,  to  comfort, 
faith,  or  morals.  The  staircase  at  the  Chapel  of  the 
Kreutzberg,  taken  from  the  judgment  hall  of  Pilate, 
at  Jerusalem,  and  showing  the  stains  of  the  blood  of 
our  Saviour,  which  fell  from  the  wounds  made  by 
the  crown  of  thorns,  is  somewhat  a  heavy  tax  upon 
a  Protestant's  credulity,  and  your  marvellousness  is 
so  small  that  I  am  afraid  you  did  not  believe  it. 
The  view  from  the  Tower,  however,  is  magnificent, 
and  affords  an  ample  compensation  for  the  ascent.     I 


LETTER    CLXXXVII.  303" 

wished  to  have  gone  to  the  Righi,  but  it  was  out  of 
the  question. 

I  have  resolved  to  stay  in  Paris  until  April ;  I  do 
not  like  to  remove  ;  I  can  finish  my  work  here  as 
as  well  as  any  where,  and  I  can  life  more  cheaply  in 
Paris  than  in  London.  Paris  is  very  gay,  but  I  have 
determined  not  to  go  into  society  this  winter.  I 
stand  upon  the  shore,  and  look  on  only  as  a  philo- 
sophical spectator.  There  are  not  many  Americans 
here  at  present;    they  have  commenced  their  jour- 

neyings  south.     Mr.  T ,  of  Cambridge,  and  his 

wife,  left  yesterday  for  Rome.  You  know  Mr. 
T ,  I  dare  say,  if  not,  pray  make  the  acquaint- 
ance of  a  very  strong  mind,  and  an  excellent  man. 

Mr.  H ,  accompanied   by  his  daughter,  and  Mrs. 

S ,  whom  you  know,  or  ought  to  know,  left  this 

morning  for  Rome.     The  manners  of  Miss  H 

have  an  elegant  and  unaifected  simplicity  quite 
charming,  and  there  is  a  sort  of  vestal  fire  burning  in 
her  mind,  and  sparkling  in  her  conversation,  whose 
radiance  might,  I  should  hope,  touch  your  marble,  if 
you  were  not  wholly  imperturbable,  even  under  a 
tropical  sun. 

Miss  T 1  hope  you  have  met  with  at  Rome, 

and  have  done  the  amiable  to  a  countrywoman,  who 
is  distinguished  by  strength  of  mind,  cultivation  and 
knowledge,  goodness  of  character,  and  kindness  of 
disposition. 

Your  friends  here  constantly  inquire  of  me  for  you, 
thinking,  I  believe,  that  there  is  a  sort  of  magnetic 
communication  between  us,  which  keeps  me  apprized 
of  your  movements. 


304        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

Dunbar  and  Cowdin  arrived  a  short  time  since,  and 
return,  I  believe,  in  December.  They  seem  to  be  a 
kind  of  commercial  or  marine  police,  and  the  Atlan- 
tic their  regular  beat.  I  dare  say  other  detachments 
will  soon  reach  us. 

The  United  States,  it  is  said,  in  commercial 
matters,  were  never  more  prosperous.  The  horrible 
Mexican  war  is  continued  with  most  extraordinary 
success  on  the  American  side,  and  with  little  pros- 
pect of  a  termination ;  and  Taylor,  it  is  said,  is  to  be 
the  Whig  candidate  for  President.  Mr.  Clay  is  still 
in  the  field,  because,  I  suppose,  he  does  not  like  to 
be  buried  alive. 

Mr.  Emerson,  of  Boston,  is  lecturing  at  Manches- 
ter with  great  success,  in  his  brilliant  and  kaleido- 
scope style.     Adieu. 


LETTER  CLXXXVIII. 


TO    MRS.    T. 


Paris,  26th  November,  1847. 
My  Dear  Friend: 

The  clock  has  struck  eleven,  and  I  must  bolster 
my  two  short  pieces  of  candle,  which  tell  me  how 
long  an  evening  I  have  made  of  it,  if  I  presume  upon 
much  longer  light ;  yet  I  am  determined  not  to  retire 
until  1  have  thanked  you  for  your  kind  and  interest- 
ing letter  received  three  days  ago.  Though  it  con- 
tained some  things  I  was  very  sorry  to  hear,  it  con- 


LETTER    CLXXXVIII.  305 

tained  nothing  which  I  did  not  wish  to  know  ;  and 
it  came  at  a  time  when  it  was  particularly  delightful 
to  me,  as  a  kind  remembrance  from  friends  whom  I 
most  heartily  love  and  honor. 

The  public  papers  seem  to  me,  of  late,  nothing  but 
a  frightful  record  of  wickedness,  folly,  and  crime  of 
every  description  ;  so  that  I  scarcely  open  one,  with- 
out a  degree  of  alarm.  I  heard  last  evening  from  a 
man,  whose  accounts  are  to  be  credited,  and  who 
passes  for  a  gentleman,  such  a  detail  of  horrible  and 
wicked  actions  and  courses,  within  his  own  personal 
knowledge,  that  I  could  not  help  sympathizing,  as  in 
a  case  not  very  diflferent  with  a  lawyer  of  some  wit, 
with  whom  I  had  been  spending  an  evening  in  Edin- 
burgh. On  our  return  home  to  our  lodgings,  we 
passed  Hunter's  great  Museum  of  diseased  anatomy 
and  monstrosities.  This  gentleman  said  to  me  in  a 
very  grave  way,  that  if  he  had  seen  before  he  was 
horn,  what  he  had  seen  in  that  museum,  he  certainly 
never  would  have  been  born.  When  I  hear  of  so 
much  moral  disease  as  I  continually  hear  of,  and  see 
so  much  moral  disease  as  I  continually  see  around 
me,  I  am  more  disposed  than  ever,  to  question  the 
value  of  life  ;  at  least,  it  would  be  more  proper  for 
me  to  say,  I  am  more  than  ever  confounded  with 
that  great  question  to  which  no  satisfactory  answer 
has  ever  yet  been  given  —  why  are  such  evils  per- 
mitted? why  is  human  life  kindled?  why  are  such 
noble  powers  given  to  the  human  soul  ?  why  is  it 
made  capable  of  such  high  attainments,  and  such 
elevated  and  divine  aspirations,  and  yet  is  permitted 
to  be  thus  prostituted,  degraded,  and  abused  ?     I  have 


306        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

no  answer  —  I  know  only  that  God  is  wise  and  good, 
and  as  wise  and  good  as  possible.  There  I  humbly 
and  hopefully  leave  the  case.     Adieu. 


LETTER  CLXXXIX. 

Paris,  1st  December,  1847. 
My  Dear  M : 

The  weather  throughout  November  has  been,  I 
think,  the  most  disagreeable  I  ever  knew ;  rain,  fog, 
and  clouds,  with  scarcely  an  intermission  ;  and  when 
the  sun  was  pleased  to  show  himself,  it  was  always 
with  a  veil  half  drawn  over  his  face,  as  though  he 
was  ashamed  to  appear  openly.  He  has  begun  to- 
day with  fair  promises,  and  will,  I  hope,  be  as  good 
as  his  word ;  but  neither  here,  any  more  than  in 
London,  is  the  weather  to  be  trusted  at  this  season, 
for  be  it  ever  so  clear,  you  are  liable  in  five  minutes 
to  be  overtaken  by  a  shower  ;  and  as  to  the  mud  in 
the  streets  of  Paris,  it  is  scarcely  to  be  borne.  What 
appears  to  be  sand,  in  which  they  lay  their  pave- 
ments, I  have  found  upon  examination,  to  be  half 
clay ;  so  that  as  soon  as  it  rains,  it  becomes  an  adhe- 
sive mud,  and  so  slippery  that  you  are  constantly  in 
danger  of  being  thrown  down.  The  throngs  in  the 
principal  streets  of  Paris,  (and  in  this  respect  it  seems 
difiicult  to  say  what  is  not  a  principal  street,)  are  as 
great  as  in  London ;  for,  though  the  population  in 
Paris  is  not  so  numerous  as  in  London,  they  are 
more  compact.     In  London,  they  generally  live  in 


LETTER    CLXXXIX.  307 

what  the  Scotch  call  self-contained  houses,  that  is,  a 
family  occupies  a  whole  house,  from  cellar  to  garret. 
In  Paris,  they  live  in  tiers ;  every  story  above  the 
lower  one,  which  is  often  let  out  for  shops,  is  a  com- 
plete tenement  by  itself,  with  drawing-room,  dining- 
room,  sleeping-rooms,  and  kitchen  complete,  so  that 
the  population  may  be  said  to  be  in  many  cases, 
seven  strata  deep,  the  seventh  story  being  often  occu- 
pied by  families.  You  may  well  judge  to  what 
hardships  the  persons  who  carry  wood,  and  coal,  and 
water,  to  these  heights,  are  subjected ;  and  the  poor 
creatures  who  do  this  are  as  often  women  as  men. 
In  London,  they  have  cellars  for  the  storage  of  coal ; 
here  they  have,  I  believe,  no  cellars ;  few  persons 
buy  any  large  quantity  beforehand  ;  and  the  great 
mass  of  the  people  live  "from  hand  to  mouth." 
There  are  wood  and  coal  shops  in  every  street,  and 
at  almost  every  corner,  where  you  buy  any  sort  of 
fuel  that  you  choose  to  order,  and  as  it  is  always  sold 
by  the  pound,  there  is  no  dispute  or  uncertainty  as 
to  the  quantity,  and  the  price  appears  to  be  uniform 
throughout  the  city.  The  most  rigid  economy  pre- 
vails as  to  the  use  of  fuel.  I  never  saw  any  thing 
like  it,  and  I  myself  have  learnt  many  a  useful  les- 
son. The  French  often  submit  patiently  to  a  degree 
of  cold,  which,  with  our  habits,  we  should  think 
scarcely  endurable.  In  this  respect,  I  think  they 
show  their  wisdom,  and  I  believe,  have  fewer  colds 
and  catarrhs  than  prevail  with  us.  They  never 
make  a  fire,  unless  absolutely  necessary,  and  they 
take  it  apart  when  they  have  done  with  it,  or  when 
it  ceases  to  be  necessary.     Their  fuel,  in  the  next 


308         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

place,  is  always  perfectly  dry,  and  is  presented  in  the 
most  convenient  forms.  They  use  much  charcoal 
for  cooking,  in  which  there  is  great  economy.  They 
have  none  of  the  detestable  cooking  stoves  which 
are  used  with  us,  filling  the  house  with  odors  of  the 
most  disagreeable  kind  ;  but  they  have  ranges  of  lit- 
tle furnaces,  where  they  cook  entirely  with  charcoal, 
and  so  placed,  that  all  the  odor  of  the  food  is  carried 
off.  They  have  every  contrivance  for  making  a  fire 
instantly.  The  oak  wood  which  they  sell  is  perfectly 
dry  ;  they  have  little  pieces  of  wood  split  and  care- 
fully tied  up  in  packets,  for  kindling,  and  they  have 
the  dried  cones  of  pine,  full  of  turpentine,  and  which 
ignite  immediately.  Besides  that,  they  have  excel- 
lent mineral  coal,  full  of  bitumen,  and  which  makes 
a  warm  fire.  Fuel,  here,  is  certainly  twice,  or  more, 
as  dear  as  in  England  or  America,  and  all  of  it  is  sold 
by  the  pound  ;  and  yet,  I  do  not  believe  it  costs  a 
French  family  more  than  half  as  much  for  fuel,  as  an 
English  or  a  Boston  family.  Lights,  here,  are  ex- 
pensive ;  candles,  called  wax,  but  made  of  some  com- 
position, are  principally  burnt ;  they  cost  about  four 
cents  apiece,  and  two  will  not  more  than  last  me 
an  evening,  though  I  rarely  retire  before  twelve. 
Adieu.  ..... 


LETTEK    CXC.  309 


LETTER  CXC. 


TO    MRS.    B- 


Faris,  5th  December,  1847- 
My  Dear  Friexd  : 

It  is  now  half-past  eleven  o'clock,  and  quite  time 
to  be  thinking  of  other  sheets  than  sheets  of  letter 
paper;  and  yet  I  do  not  know  how  I  can  do  better 
—  for  myself  I  mean,  my  own  comfort,  my  own 
peace  of  mind,  my  own  gratification,  —  than  before  I 
retire,  to  have  a  bit  of  talk  with  a  dear  friend ;  I  was 
going  to  say  conversation,  but  judging  from  recent 
experience,  as  I  am  not  likely  to  get  any  response,  it 

must  be  a  talk  on  one  side.     As  to  E ,  I  consider 

her  as  a  decided  repudiator,  or  more  probably  a  bank- 
rupt, and  not  able  to  pay  even  a  farthing  in  the 
pound  ,-  for  certainly,  if  there  had  been  any  assets, 
so  large  a  creditor  as  I  am  would  have  been  consid- 
ered. I  am  sorry  for  the  poor  thing,  she  was  once 
rich  and  had  certainly  a  large  capital  to  deal  upon, 
and  paid  all  her  debts  in  gold  coin.  Sir  Robert  Peel's 
standard  of  value  ;  but  this  maternity  seems  to  have 
ruined  her,  and  creditors  and  friends  appear  to  have 
been  shoved  out  of  her  mind  with  reckless  uncon- 
cern. 

I  should  be  glad  to  know  what  you  are  doing  with 
yourselves  in  London,  and,  by  way  of  establishing  a 
demand,  I  will  begin  by  telling  you  what  we  are 
doing  with  ourselves  in  Paris.     First,  then,  it  seems 


310         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

to  me  there  never  was  such  bad  weather  as  we  have 
had  for  the  last  six  weeks.  At  first  the  French 
began  by  calling  it  in  very  gentle  terms,  mauvais 
temps ;  but  now,  with  considerable  emphasis,  vilain 
temps ;  and  in  this  last  epithet  I  quite  agree.  If 
dirty,  cloudy,  wet,  rainy,  dark,  cold-begetting,  influ- 
enza-making weather,  with  an  accompaniment  of 
sore  throats,  stuffed  nostrils,  inflamed  eyes,  and  aching 
limbs,  is  entitled  to  be  called  villanous,  then  the  epithet 
is  most  justly  applied.  The  streets  are  full  of  mud, 
and  the  paving  being  laid  in  a  sort  of  clayey  gravel, 
instead  of  pure  sand,  they  are  sticky  and  slippery 
beyond  measure  ;  so  that  a  man's  character,  as  well 
as  his  limbs,  are  constantly  in  peril,  and  you  walk 
upon  the  pavements  as  if  they  were  covered  with 
about  an  inch  of  soft  soap.  Then,  in  such  deplorable 
weather,  almost  everybody  is  out  of  humor  ;  the 
shops  lose  their  brilliancy,  the  restaurants  look  sombre, 
and  the  lights  in  them  appear  to  burn  blue  ;  and 
even  the  young  girls,  the  prettiest  birds  of  paradise 
that  you  can  find  this  side  of  the  Oriental  climes, 
seem  to  suffer  from  the  effects  of  this  inhospitable 
weather ;  their  feathers  are  rumpled ;  the  colors  are  not 
so  glossy ;  ten  years  appear  to  be  added  to  their 
lives,  and  the  smoothest  forehead  seems  wrinkled, 
and  the  fairest  cheek  becomes  yellow.  I  will  give 
them  however  one  credit,  and  that  is,  in  the  midst  of 
all  this  mud,  they  keep  themselves  clean  ;  they  never 
drabble  in  the  dirt ;  and  their  white  stockings  are  as 
unsullied  as  if  they  were  just  taken  out  of  the  drawer. 
How  they  do  this  I  don't  know.  I  am  mud  up  tp 
my  knees.     I  hope  I  shall  be  excused,  being  this  side 


LETTER    CXC.  311 

of  the  channel,  speaking  of  a  lady's  stockings.  In 
England  and  the  United  States  we  hear  of  such 
things  being  sold  in  the  shops,  but  we  never  know 
what  is  done  with  them.  I  suppose,  if  a  pair  of 
lady's  stockings  were  given  to  our  friend,  the  curator, 
he  would  regard  them  as  some  artificial  or  natural 
curiosity,  to  be  put  in  Sir  John  Soane's  museum, 
until  the  learned  Professor  Owen,  or  Dr.  Buckland, 
could  determine  what  they  were  designed  for ;  but 
in  Paris  new  revelations  burst  upon  the  mind,  and 
the  most  modest  man  cannot  help  discovering  that 
the  French  women  generally  wear  high  clocks  to 
their  hose,  and  snaps  instead  of  quality-binding,  or 
red  twine.  This,  by  the  way,  however,  for  you  and 
the  ladies,  but  pray  don't  read  it  to  the  gentlemen. 
This  weather  I  hope  will  not  last,  and  since  I  began 
to  write  the  stars  are  shining  as  bright  as  if  their 
faces  had  been  lately  washed  and  rubbed ;  possibly, 
to-morrow  we  may  see  the  sun,  who  certainly,  in  a 
very  unkind  and  unbecoming  manner,  has  absented 
himself  for  some  time. 

Does  the  sun  shine  upon  you  in  England  ?  If  we 
judge  from  the  papers,  the  weather  is  even  much 
darker  than  it  is  here  ;  at  least,  the  moral  atmosphere, 
which  appears  lowering  and  threatening  in  a  high 
degree.  I  am  curious  to  know  what  you  are  all  to 
do  in  England.  My  advice  to  my  dear  friends  there 
is,  to  quit  a  sinking  ship  and  flee  to  America.  But 
pray,  contrive  before  you  go,  to  keep  the  Irish  this 
side  of  the  water.  What  under  heaven  is  to  be  done 
with  this  extraordinary  people,  who  seem  like  mas- 
tiffs, who,  having  once  got  the  taste  of  blood,  crawl 


312        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

about  by  night  into  every  flock  and  kill  out  of  pure 
wantonness.  I  expect  an  account  of  two  or  three 
Irish  assassinations  every  morning  with  my  break- 
fast, as  much  as  I  expect  my  bread  and  coffee,  but  I 
confess  it  is  a  most  melancholy  accompaniment.  It 
is  now  quarter-past  one ;  good-morning,  instead  of 
good-night.     Adieu, 


LETTER  CXCI. 

Paris,  28th  December,  1847. 
My  Dear  M : 

I  RECEIVED  your  kind  letter  of  the  28th  Novem- 
ber, with  peculiar  interest.  You  have  indeed  been 
painfully  occupied.  The  death  of  Mr.  H sur- 
prised me,  and  yet  I  ought  n  ot  to  have  been  surprised  ; 
for,  without  our  being  aware  of  it,  he  had  become  an 
old  man.  He  never  appeared  to  me,  however,  to  be 
the  subject  for  a  fever.  He  must,  excepting  in  living 
single,  be  considered  as  a  fortunate  man  through  life. 

The  death  of  H H I  was  looking  forward 

to,  from  your  previous  advices.  She  was  a  sweet 
and  amiable  girl,  and  I  believe  without  faults ;  at 
least  I  never  saw  any.  Your  attendance  upon  her 
must  have  made  you  think  much  of  the  pahiful 
events  of  a  similar  character,  to  which  we  have  been 
called,  in  that  neighborhood.  For  my  part  I  seem 
to  have  buried  a  world,  and  have  certainly  seen  hun- 
dreds and  thousands  pass  away,  whom  I  never 
expected  to  survive.     My  hope  now  is,  that  the  few 


LETTER    CXCI.  313 

friends  which  are  left  may  be   spared  until  I  can  see 
them  once  more ;  but  God's  will  be  done. 

On  Sunday  I  went  to  church  about  a  mile  out  of 
the  city;  and  finding  myself  nearly  an  hour  too  soon, 
I  strolled  into  the  burying-ground  of  Mont-martre, 
which  is  nearly  as  large  and  interesting  as  Pere  La 
Chaise.  The  first  thing,  which  impresses  me  in  one 
of  these  great  city  burying-grounds,  is  the  multitude 
ot  dead.  I  believe  Pere  La  Chaise  has  been  used  for 
interment  not  much  longer  than  thirty  years,  yet  it 
is  said  a  hundred  thousand  have  been  buried  there. 
Mont-martre  seems  as  full.  So  the  generations  of 
men  pass  away,  and  of  these  infinite  multitudes,  how 
few  have  any  memorial !  What  have  they  come 
into  the  world  for  ?  how  well  have  they  accomplished 
the  ends  of  their  being  ?  and  where  now  are  they  ? 
are  questions  which  utterly  confound  the  mind,  and 
who  can  give  any  satisfactory  answer?  In  some 
matters  I  very  much  respect  the  habits  of  the  French. 
A  dead  body,  before  its  interment,  is  usually  laid  in 
an  open  space  or  room  near  the  street  ;  a  black  cur- 
tain, partially  withdrawn,  shrouds  the  door  ;  and  the 
passers-by,  at  least  the  Catholics,  stop  and  sprinkle 
the  coffin  with  consecrated  water,  silently  crossing 
themselves  and  ofiering  up  a  prayer  for  the  soul  of 
the  departed.  When  they  pass  a  dead  body,  on  its 
way  to  interment,  they  always  uncover  their  heads. 
The  burying-grounds  are  full  of  little  chapels,  which 
will  hold  two  or  three  persons,  built  over  the  graves, 
where  the  relatives  come  frequently  to  offer  their 
prayers  for  the  dead,  and  affectionately  to  cherish 
their  memories.     There  is  not  a  grave  so  humble 

VOL.    II.  14 


314 


EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 


that  it  is  not  decorated  with  votive  offerings ;  and 
one  day  in  a  year  is  set  apart  excUisively  to  the  com- 
memoration of  the  dead,  when  the  relatives  always 
visit  the  graves  of  the  departed ;  often  carrying  offer- 
ings of  flowers,  to  decorate  their  tombs  afresh,  or  to 
see  that  the  little  plats  of  ground  are  in  good  order, 
and  the  plants  and  flowers  flom-ishing.  The  day,  this 
year,  was  a  most  affecting  one.  I  spent  it  at  Pere 
La  Chaise,  which  seemed  to  be  crowded  with  mourn- 
ers, silently  gathering  round  the  grajres  of  their 
beloved  friends,  bedewing  them  with  their  tears,  and 
holding  affectionate  communion  with  the  departed. 
The  little  chapel,  where  the  funeral  services  are  per- 
formed, was  crowded  with  devout  persons,  praying 
for  the  friends  who  had  gone  before  them,  and 
strengthening  their  hopes  of  a  happj''  reunion.  I  saw 
nothing  in  this  but  what  was  beautiful  and  touching, 
and,  I  will  add,  reasonable.  I  do  not  know  why  we 
should  not  pray  for  the  departed  as  for  the  living.  I 
believe  in  a  future  life.  I  cannot  conjecture  what 
that  life  is  to  be,  but  I  see  no  reason  to  suppose  that 
death  is  any  interruption  of  our  conscious  existence, 
and  I  choose  to  live  in  the  habitual  and  daily  con- 
sciousness that  my  departed  friends  are  still  living, 
and  our  mutual  sympathies  unbroken.  It  seems  to 
me  I  should  be  miserable  without  this  belief. 

To-day  we  have  had  the  first  snow  of  the  season, 
and  that  rather  a  mixed  affair,  for  it  seemed  to  melt 
before  it  got  down.  But  I  never  knew  more  gloomy 
weather  than  we  have  had  here  for  nearly  two 
months.  January  we  hope  will  bring  some  favor- 
able change.     Yours  ever. 


LETTER   CXCII. 


315 


LETTER  CXCII. 

TO    G M ,    ESq. 

Paris,  29tlx  December,  1847. 
My  Good  Friekd: 

Few  things  could  have  given  me  more  pleasure 
than  your  letter  of  last  month.  I  was  delighted  to 
receive  it  as  a  token  of  your  kind  remembrance,  but 
still  more  as  it  assured  me  of  the  recovery  and  rees- 
tablishment  of  your  health.  I  had  fearful  forebod- 
ings when  you  left  for  home,  and  especially  when 
you  informed  me  of  your  continued  indisposition  in 
England ;  and  I  thought  your  first  business  must  be, 
on  your  arrival,  to  send  for  a  chaplain  or  a  father- 
confessor,  and  try  to  get  absolution  for  your  sins. 
But  it  seems,  with  that  hardihood  and  determination 
of  character  which  distinguish  you,  you  had  the  pre- 
sumption to  send  first  for  a  physician,  and  he  has, 
by  Heaven's  blessing,  relieved  and  cured  you.  I  do 
not  know  whether  the  priest's  absolution  would  have 
had  the  same  effect,  although  the  diseases  of  the 
body  are  not  unfrequently  cured  by  remedies  applied 
to  the  mind  —  I  was  about  to  say  the  imagination; 
—  but  you  are  a  matter  of  fact  man,  and  have  culti- 
vated your  perceptive  faculties  and  your  causality  so 
largely  and  constantly,  that  your  ideality,  if  you 
ever  had  any,  has  become  flattened  or  extinct ;  the 
imagination  is  all  on  the  other  side  of  the  house, 


316         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

where  it  is  always  radiating  like  a  diamond  of  the 
first  water,  under  the  purple  velvet  mantle,  and  that 
pretty  Parisian  bonnet,  with  that  beautiful  bird  of 
paradise  feather  or  ostrich  plume,  waving  so  grace- 
fully from  its  summit.  Be  this,  however,  as  it  may, 
you,  thank  God,  have  got  a  reprieve.  I  hope  a  new 
and  a  long  lease ;  now,  pray  live  and  be  well  till  I 
get  home,  that  I  may  have  one  more  shake  of  the 
hand  of  an  honest  man,  (that  is,  as  honest  as  a  law- 
yer can  be,)  and  that  we  may  turn  over  together 
once  more  the  books  of  the  chronicles  of  the  two  last 

years.     I  shall  depend  upon  a  cup  of  Mrs.  M 's 

best  black  tea,  that  nectar,  which,  on  Mount  Thahor* 
so  often  exhilarated  us,  and  gave  us  a  glimpse  of  the 
promised  land.  I  know  I  shall  need  a  strait-jacket 
as  soon  as  (if  God  ever  permits  me  that  felicity,)  1 
touch  once  more  the  shores  of  my  native  land,  and 
see  again  the  smiles  of  welcome  and  affection  in  eyes 
which  I  have  met  so  often,  with  the  delight  of  a 
sympathy  that  no  language  can  describe  :  talk  of 
seeing,  however  —  I  shall  not  be  able,  I  know,  to  see 
at  all ;  for  even  when  writing  and  thinking  about  it, 
I  am  obliged  to  let  my  pen  go  by  hazard,  and  not  by 
sight. 

Paris  is  still  Paris.  The  weather,  for  the  last  six 
weeks,  has  been  the  worst  that  I  ever  knew ;  the 
streets  indescribably  muddy,  and  covered  with  a  sort 
of  adhesive  mud,  that  makes  it,  in  many  cases, 
almost  necessary  to  turn  your  face  in  a  direction 
opposite  to  that  in  which  you  intend  to  proceed,  for 

*  Rac  Mont  Thabor,  Paris. 


LETTER    CXCII.  317 

you  seem  to  go  two  steps  backwards  to  one  forward. 
This  resembles  very  much  the  practice  in  the  Eng- 
lish Chancery  Court,  where  the  estate  in  question  is 
a  large  one,  and  the  cow  gives  a  full  pail  at  milking, 
which  the  lawyers,  regular  strippers  as  they  are, 
know  at  first  sight  by  a  sort  of  instinct.  Then  we 
have  had  in  Paris  what  is  here  called  the  grippe,  a 
very  bad  name,  and  a  very  uncomfortable,  though 
not  an  uncommon,  malady.  In  spite  of  all  this  Paws 
goes  on  ;  the  restaurants  still  glitter  ;  the  Boulevards 
are  crowded  ;  the  bals  masques  overflow  with  tra- 
vestie  and  riot  ;  the  Lorettes  and  grisettes  on  the 
Boulevards  and  in  the  boutiques  (consult  the  classical 
French  lady  at  your  side,  if  you  don't  understand 
this  word,)  look  somewhat  faded  and  wrinkled,  un- 
der the  influence  of  the  neither  cold  nor  hot,  but 
shivering  temperature.  Though  the  French  women 
in  the  streets,  in  spite  of  the  mud,  contrive,  with 
peculiar  and  exquisite  skill,  to  keep  their  shoes  clean 
and  their  dresses  unsullied.  In  this  they  are  an 
example  to  all  others.  In  these  habits  of  extreme 
neatness,  (and  not  going  draggling  through  the 
streets  as  though  their  silk  gowns  were  made  to 
sweep  the  pavements  with,)  they  show  their  good 
sense,  with  Honni  soil  'qui  mal  y  pense. 

Paris  is  full  of  Americans,  and  Woodman  is  trim- 
ming them  all  with  gold  lace,  four  inches  wide,-for  the 
drawing-room.  Since  the  successes  of  the  Mexican 
war,  I  suppose  the  genuine  republicans  will  be  pre- 
sented to  the  King  with  drawn  swords.  The  blood 
of  most  of  them,  I  find,  is  at  fever  heat,  but  with 
your  old  pacific  friend  the   mercury  still  remains  in 


318        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

the  bulb.  I  do  not  wonder  at  your  concern  for  John 
Bull.  England  is  dreadfully  diseased,  and  seems 
under  the  care  of  a  set  of  practitioners,  who  either 
have  not  the  sagacity  or  the  courage  to  apply  the 
only  effectual  remedies.  Indeed,  the|patient  himself 
is  not  in  a  condition  to  submit  to  them  of  his  own 
accord,  but  requires  a  good  deal  more  reducing  and 
depletion,  which  he  may  get.     Adieu. 


LETTER  CXCIII. 


TO    MRS.    B- 


Paris,  25th  January,  1848. 
My  Dear  Friend: 

I  CANNOT  persuade  myself  that  I  have  at  once 
grown  twenty  years  older,  but  otherwise  I  cannot 
account  for  my  extreme  susceptibility  to  the  weather. 
In  ordinary  cases  I  have  felt  that  it  is  immanly  to 
complain  of  the  weather ;  but  my  philosophy  this 
winter  has  all  "  gone  by  the  board  ;"  and  I  must  say 
that  it  has  been  the  most  uncomfortable  that  I  have 
known ;  raw,  chilly,  shivering,  and  the  walking  in 
the  streets  almost  beyond  endurance  ;  for  three  days 
past  we  have  had  no  mud,  but  the  weather  has  been 
cloudy,  gusty,  and  cold ;  and,  if  a  man  in  such  case 
can  keep  peace  with  himself,  much  less  with  his 
friends,  his  mind  and  heart  must  be  well  regulated. 
Yet,  when  I  talk  thus,  I  cannot  help  feeling  how 
wicked   it   is.     I  have    plenty  to    eat ;  comfortable 


LETTER    CXCIII.  319 

clothing  ;  a  good  fire  ;  occupations  to  interest  me  ;  a 
full  share  in  the  common  pleasures  of  life,  and  many 
of  the  kindest  of  friends  ;  and  I  am  in  the  midst  of 
thousands  who  are  half  starved,  half  clad  ;  without 
the  most  common  comforts  of  life  ;  without  hope  of 
any  thing  better,  and  utterly  friendless  and  forlorn. 
To-day,  however,  we  have  a  glimpse  of  sunshine, 
and  I  hope  that  the  worst  is  over.  I  received  a  let- 
ter this  morning  from  Rome.  My  friend  there  writes 
that  she  has  been  wishing  all  winter  that  she  was  in 
Paris,  because  the  weather  in  Rome  has  been  so  un- 
interruptedly unpleasant ;  but  the  change,  in  such 
case,  could  not  have  been  an  improvement.  What- 
ever has  been  the  state  of  the  natural  atmosphere 
with  you,  you  seem  to  have  had  enough  to  suffer 
from  the  state  of  the  commercial  and  political  sky. 
I  get  a  daily  London  newspaper,  and  I  am  really  dis- 
appointed'if  I  do  not  find  two  or  three  horrible  mur- 
ders, half  a  dozen  people  brought  up  to  receive 
sentence  of  death,  some  dreadful  bankruptcies,  scat- 
tering ruin  in  every  direction,  frightful  railroad 
accidents,  which  the  printers  seem  to  have  stereo- 
typed, poor-houses  crowded,  thousands  perishing  by 
starvation  ;  and  in  the  midst  of  all  this,  the  Duke  of 
Wellington  endeavoring  to  frighten  all  the  women  in 
the  country  with  the  fear  of  a  French  invasion, 
when,  somehow  or  other,  the  English  are  to  be  sound 
asleep,  and  the  French  let  themselves  in  at  the  back 
door,  proceed  to  London  by  an  express  train,  and  the 
Q,ueen,  poor  thing,  to  be  waked  up  in  the  night  by 
the  ghost  of  some  bloody  Frenchman  who  was  killed 
at  Waterloo,  rushing  into  her  chamber  with  a  drawn 


320         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

sword  in  his  hand,  and  the  amiable  Prince  Albert, 
long  familiar  only  with  the  peaceful  pursuits  and 
pleasures  of  domestic  life,  to  quit,  as  field  marshal  of 
England,  his  charming  retreat  for  the  field  of  blood, 
and  gratify  his  fine  musical  taste  with  the  din  and 
clangor  of  arms. 

Now,  when  and  where  is  this  to  end  ?  If  the 
papers  speak  the  truth,  such  a  condition  of  society 
has  scarcely  been  known  before. 


In  such  a  state  of  things  as  this,  how  much  phi- 
losophy it  requires  to  keep  one's  mind  ;  and  does  it 
not  imply  the  most  consummate  ignorance  or  the 
most  consummate  impudence,  to  talk  about  our  being 
a  Christian  community  ?  1  am  curious  to  know 
what  is  to  be  the  result  of  all  this  :  but  I  have  no 
chance  of  seeing,  and  I  suppose  there  will  be  no  final 
result.  The  world  will  go  on  as  it  has  done.  If 
men  are  so  bad  with  a  little  Christianity,  what  would 
they  be  without  any  ?  Let  us  thank  God  if  we  can 
keep  our  own  souls  in  health  ;  let  us  thank  him  also 
that  we  occupy  a  very  humble  situation  in  the 
schemes  of  his  providence,  and  are  so  far  removed 
from  man>  of  the  temptations  and  responsibilities 
which  befall  those  whom  the  world  are  accustomed 
to  envy  for  their  rank,  their  wealth,  or  their  power. 
If  we  can  faithfully,  quietly,  and  kindly  discharge 
the  humble,  every  day  duties  of  truth,  justice,  and 
love,  we  shall  find  in  the  end  that  we  have  no  occa- 
sion for  envy  or  ambition. 


LETTER    CXCIV.  321 

Paris  is  fall  of  gaiety,  but  I  am  a  mere  spectator, 
and  stand  upon  the  shore  only  to  see  the  regatta; 
how  they  trim  their  sails,  how  their  flags  float  upon 
the  breeze,  how  the  waters  splash  from  the  oars,  how 
the  shouts  of  contending  parties  ring  in  the  air,  how 
they  swim  and  how  they  sink.  In  the  midst  of 
society,  I  am  dying  for  want  of  sympathy.  I  am 
growing  stifi"  and  old,  and  am  repenting  every  day 
that  I  did  not  the  last  autumn  proceed  at  once  to 
England,  and  find  the  place  which  I  know  you 
would  have  given  me  in  your  little  circle  of  friend- 
ship and  love,  where,  cold  and  foggy  as  it  might 
have  been  without,  I  know  I  should  have  found  that 
delicious  cheerfulness  which  unaff"ected  and  hearty 
kindness  inspires,  the  playfulness  of  an  innocent  and 
sparkling  humor  and  wit,  and,  above  all,  that  truth 
and  honor,  that  high  sense  of  duty  and  that  spirit  of 
universal  good  will,  which  constitute  the  true  glory 
and  delight  of  social  intercourse,  and  are,  indeed, 
jewels  far  richer  than  the  treasures  oi  Golcouda  ever 
did  or  ever  can  yield.     Yours  truly. 


LETTER  CXCIV. 

Paris,  26th  January,  18i8. 
Mt  Dear  M : 

Your  letter  of  the  29th  December  made  me  very 
sad.  I  had  heard  previously  of  the  death  of  the 
excellent  Judge  Lyman — ^an  event  not  unexpected, 

VOL.    II.  14^ 


322        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

and,  at  his  advanced  period  of  life,  not  to  be  lament- 
ed ;  but  the  death  of  Dr.  Codman  took  me  quite  by 
surprise.  1  respected  and  esteemed  him  highly,  and 
1  believe  the  regard  was  mutual.  We  did  not  agree 
in  our  religious  opinions,  which  was  to  me  of  no  con- 
sequence, but  we  agreed  in  every  thing  else,  and  I 
knew  him  to  be  a  generous,  honest,  and  honorable 
man. 

"  For  faith  and  forms,  let  senseless  bigots  fight ; 
He  can't  be  wrong,  whose  life  is  in  the  right." 

These,  and  several  other  deaths,  have  impressed 
me  a  good  deal,  and  remind  me  that  I  am  in  the 
front  rank,  where   the   shafts  fly  thickest.     I  must 
bide  my  time.     I  have    no  fears  of   dying ;  not  be- 
cause I  have  any  confidence  in  myself;    not  because 
I  am  self-satisfied  ;    not   that  I  feel  I]  have  done  my 
duty ;  but  because  my  reason,  and  all  my  reflections 
upon  this  world,  and  the  course  of  Divine  Providence, 
'  satisfy  me  that  this  life  is  an  unfinished  state,  a  mere 
introduction    to  life ;    next,  because  I    believe    that 
Jesus  Christ  was  Commissioned  to  assure  men   of  a 
future  life,  though  we  are  left  wholly  in  the  dark  as 
to  what  that  future  life  shall  be  ;  and   lastly,  and 
above  all,  because  I  feel  myself,  in  life  and  death, 
entirely  at  the  disposal  of  my  Creator,  from  whom  I 
cannot    separate   myself  if  I    would,  from  whom  I 
would  not  separate  myself  if  I  could,  and  in  whose 
wisdom,  and  unbounded  and  unchanging  love  and 
goodness,  forgiveness  and  mercy,  I  confide  with  my 
whole  soul ;    and,  if  my  affections  and  confidence 
were  ten  thousand  times  as  strong  as  they  are,  I  feel 
that  they  would   still   be  a  very  imperfect  tribute  to 


LETTER    CXCIV.  323 

his  adorable  perfection.  I  may  say,  in  truth,  that  I 
have  only  two  or  three  wishes  in  life  unaccomplished. 
I  wish  very  much  to  finish  the  works  which  I  have 
undertaken.  No  individual's  labors,  I  am  perfectly 
aware,  are  of  any  great  consequence  to  the  world  ; 
and  the  works  of  many,  infinitely  superior  in  endow- 
ments to  myself,  are  destined  to  be  swept  along  into 
oblivion  on  the  common  and  ever-flowing  tide  of 
mortal  affairs.  Yet,  I  think  I  never  had  the  power 
of  doing  so  much  good  as  at  the  present  time. 


The  last  wish  T  have,  is  once  more,  in  this  world, 
to  embrace  you,  my  most  faithful  friend,  my  dear 
children,  and  a  few  other  friends,  who  have,  under 
all  circumstances,  shown  their  fidelity  and  honor.  I 
do  not  dare  pronounce  any  names,  lest  it  might  be 
construed  into  a  reflection  upon  some  whom  I  should 
not  name.  Whether  these  wishes  will  be  granted, 
who  knows?  As  far  as  depends  on  me,  I  can  only 
express  the  resolution.  God  only  can  accomplish 
them.     His  will  be  done. 

I  have  suffered  my  pen  to  run  on,  in  spite,  perhaps, 
of  all  the  dictates  of  prudence  ;  but,  if  I  cannot  speak 
plainly  to  you,  to  whom  can  I  speak.  I  have  not 
been  in  very  good  health,  or  very  good  spirits,  of  late. 
My  lodgings  have  been  bad,  my  chamber  cold,  and 
the  weather  most  disagreeable.  Under  these  circum- 
stances I  have  not  made  much  progress.  I  have 
completed  enough  of  my  agricultural  work  to  fulfil 
my  obligations  to  my  subscribers  of  one  hundred  and 


324  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

fifty  pages ;  but  the  subject  has  grown  upon  me,  and 
I  mean  to  extend  it,  with  some  hopes  of  getting  it 
published  in  London,  as  a  work  upon  Continental 
agriculture.     Adieu. 


LETTER  CXCV. 

Paris,  5th  February,  1848. 
Mt  Dear  M : 

I  HAVE  nothing  particularly  interesting  to  say  to 
you,  as  I  am  scarcely  at  all  in  society,  though  many 
people  favor  me  sometimes,  quite  beyond  my  deserts, 
with  their  good  company.  I  feel  that  nothing  now 
is  so  precious  to  me  as  time,  and  I  therefore  spare  it 
with  great  reluctance,  and  go  out  only  as  my  neces- 
sities or  my  health  require.  I  was  not  well  when  I 
last  wrote  to  you,  having  suffered  severely  from  a 
cough  which  gave  me  full  occupation  the  greater 
part  of  the  night.  I  have  now  had  two  nights  of 
quiet ;  the  weather  seems  to  have  taken  a  most  fa- 
vorable change,  and  I  hope  soon  to  be  well  again.  I 
am  not  so  foolish  as  to  look  again  for  the  health  and 
vigor  of  youth,  but  I  shall  be  content,  if,  like  an  old 
watch,  I  go,  though  I  may  not  keep  exact  time.  1 
do  not  know  who  the  friend  was  who  saw  me  at  the 
Opera.  The  Italian  Opera  in  Paris,  the  resort  for 
the  fashionable  world  here,  I  have  never  yet  seen. 
It  must  have  been  at  the  Academy  of  Music,  a  French 
Opera,  and  the  only  time  I  have  been  there  this  win- 
ter ;  for  my  theatrical  experience  since  I  returned  to 


LETTER    CXCV.  325 

Paris,  in  the  autumn,  has  been  very  small.  Besides, 
I  cannot  discover  in  myself  any  great  taste  for  the 
music  at  the  Opera.  The  solos  and  the  duets  are 
often  enchanting,  but  it  requires  more  patience  or 
taste  than  I  can  lay  claim  to,  to  sit  through  their 
choruses,  which  stun,  but  do  not  at  all  gratify  me. 
I  have  not  seen  Mdlle.  Rachel  this  winter,  but  I  hope 
to  see  her  again.  Her  acting  is  transcendent.  I 
have  seen  nothing  like  it ;  it  is,  indeed,  not  acting, 
but  the  thing  itself.  She  plays  only  in  tragedy. 
But  the  French  comic  acting  is  really  as  charming  as 
possible,  and  with  plenty  of  money  and  plenty  of 
time,  I  should  go  two  or  three  times  a  week,  for  the 
sake  of  the  good  humor  it  puts  one  in  ;  but,  as  I  have 
neither  time  nor  money  to  spare,  I  deny  myself. 
Parties,  likewise,  I  avoid.  I  have  dined  out  not 
more  than  twice  or  three  times,  (I  mean  in  company,) 

this  winter.     I  dined  on  one  occasion,  with  Mr. , 

at  Meurice's  hotel,  with  a  party  of  twenty  gentle- 
men, where  I  was  told  afterwards,  by  a  gentleman 
who  seemed  to  be  curious  in  those  matters,  that  the 
dinner  cost  four  hundred  dollars,  or  twenty  dollars 
apiece.  It  was  singularly  elegant  and  luxurious  ;  but 
I  am  not  sure  that  the  money  might  not  have  been 
better  appropriated.       That,  however,  was  his,  not 

my  affair.     I  'have  been  at  a  ball,  at  Mrs. 's,  about 

three  weeks  since,  and  though  I  have  seen  many 
elegant  parties,  I  never  saw  one  more  elegant,  in  the 
apartments,  in  the  supper  and  accompaniments  of  the 

table,  and   in   the  dresses  of  the  ladies.     Mrs.   

would,  herself,  be  beautiful  in  any  dress,  but  her 
style  that    evening,   was  magnificent;    she  wore  a 


326  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

single  white  plume  in  her  beautiful  black  hair,  a  sim- 
ple coronet  and  magnificent  stomacher  of  brilliants, 
a  plain  pink-colored  silk,  trimmed  with  three  deep 
flounces  of  superb  lace,  which  the  same  curious  gen- 
tleman, to  whom  I  have  referred  above,  with  the 
true  American  spirit  of  calculation,  told  a  friend  of 
mine,  in  my  hearing,  cost  $300  per  yard.  The  dia- 
monds and  clothes  of  the  lady,  however,  let  them 
have  been  ten  thousand  times  more  valuable,  were  of 
far  less  value  than  the  lady  herself.  The  company 
was  numerous,  but  not  crowded,  and  I  never  have 
seen  a  party  of  the  kind,  where  every  thing  was  so 
comfortable,  every  thing  in  such  perfect  correspond- 
ence, and  every  person  seemed  so  entirely  satisfied. 
I  left,  I  believe,  the  very  first,  at  three  o'clock  in  the 
morning!!  and  walked  home,  nearly  two  miles  — 
the  city  as  quiet  as  the  country  —  and,  until  I  almost 
reached  my  door,  not  meeting  a  single  person,  except 
the  sentinels  at  the  different  stations.  On  Friday 
next,  I  go  to  a  ball  at  the  Marquis  of  Normanby's ; 
(Lady  Normanby's  parties  are  always  most  splendid 
and  agreeable,)  and  that,  I  think,  will  finish  my 
winter's  dissipation.  I  ought  not  to  have  forgotten 
that  I  have  passed  an  elegant  evening  at  the  March- 
ioness de  Lavalette's,  with  a  select,  but  small  party, 
and  I  have  seen  no  private  house  more  tasteful  and 
elegant.  In  matters  of  taste,  the  French  distance 
every  other  people. 

I  continue  to  receive  the  most  affectionate  letters 
from  my  English  friends,  who,  if  they  were  not  Eng- 
lish, and  so  priding  themselves  upon  their  sincerity, 
I  should  think  quite  extravagant.     Adieu. 


LETTER   CXCVI.  327 


LETTER  CXCVI. 

Paris,  5th  February,  1848. 
My  Deab  Miss  J : 

I  OWE  you  for  a  very  kind  letter,  of  sterling  value. 
I  ewe  you  for  many  other  kindnesses.  But  I  am 
bankrupt.  I  cannot  pay  my  debts.  I  must  cdm- 
pound  with  my  creditors  ;  and  if  you  will  accept  five 
shillings  in  the  pound,  and  that  in  a  very  depreciated 
currency,  I  shall  deem  it  extremely  gracious  on  your 
part.  I  am  somwhat  enecouraged  in  making  this 
proposition  to  you,  by  finding  that  the  war  spirit  has 
somewhat  subsided  with  you;  that  the  fever  has 
passed  off,  and  that  the  genial  current  now  pursues 
its  usually  calm  and  tranquil  course.  I  shall  long 
recollect  some  of  those  tremendous  out-breaks  of 
chivalric  patriotism.  Alas  !  I  was  the  unhappy  wight 
that  put  the  friction  match  to  the  train.  You  looked 
quite  Joan  of  Arc-ish.  I  was  somewhat  terrified  at 
the  mischief  I  had  unwittingly  occasioned ;  but  you 
have  really  become  a  Clayite  or  a  Calhounite,  and 
look  upon  this  wicked  war  in  its  true  light.  I  abhor 
all  wars;  and  I  hold  every  thing  beyond  pure  self- 
defence  as  a  crime  against  reason,  humanity,  and 
religion.  I  believe  as  Cobden,  that  noble  fellow,  has 
lately  said,  "  that  a  nation  always  adhering  to  the 
strict  principles  of  justice  and  equity,  would  neither 
assault  nor  be  assaulted  by  a  neighbor." 

I  hardly  know  what  to  tell  you  about  Paris.    Since 


328         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

newspapers  have  become  so  multiplied,  and  railroads, 
and  steamboats,  and  above  all,  the  electric  telegraph, 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  news,  and  every  thing  a 
day  old  loses  its  interest.  Paris  is,  I  believe,  very 
gay  this  winter ;  but,  though  I  am  in  Paris,  I  am  not 
in  the  current,  and  stand  a  mere  spectator  on  the 
shore,  watching  the  stream  as  it  rushes  and  gushes 
by  me,  with  many  a  beautiful  craft  with  all  its  canvas 
spread,  and  all  its  streamers  flying,  as  it  floats  gaily 
by,  and  many  a  dismasted  hull,  and  many  a  fragment 
of  a  wreck,  which  mark  the  dangers  by  which  they 
have  been  overpowered.  My  chamber,  this  winter, 
is  quite  secluded  both  from  the  sights  and  the  thun- 
ders of  the  streets ;  and  when  I  emerge  from  my 
cavern,  which  I  never  do  until  three  o'clock,  and 
plunge  into  the  perfect  Niagara  of  human  life,  which 
is  ever  rushing  and  tumbling  and  foaming  along  the 
great  thoroughfares,  I  confess  myself  as  much  moved 
as  the  first  time  I  entered  it.  What  are  these  people 
all  about  ?  where  are  they  all  going  to  ?  how  do  they 
all  live  ?  what  are  they  all  living  for  ?  and  the  mys- 
tery of  human  life  utterly  confounds  me.  What 
infinite  ramifications  extend  from  all  these  roots ; 
how  does  one  afiect  another ;  how  does  one  depend 
upon  another  ;  and  how  does  every  one  perform  its 
part  in  no  case  without  its  influence,  be  that  influ- 
ence great  or  small,  much  or  little,  in  affecting  the 
destiny  of  others,  and  of  the  whole.  Cat  off"  or  crack 
the  little  ball  that  is  on  the  shoulders  of  these  little 
moving,  hurrying,  bustling,  talking,  noisy  animals, 
and  it  is  all  over  with  them;  every  thing  comes  to 
an  end.     Here,  then,  is  the  main  spring ;  here  is  the 


LETTER    CXCVI.  329 

hidden  machinery  which  operates  all  these  move- 
ments, arranges  all,  directs  all,  cares  for  all,  provides 
for  all.  What  a  study  it  would  be,  if  we  could  take 
oflF  the  roof  of  this  little  ball,  and  distinctly  see  all 
that  lies  shut  up  and  at  work  here.  My  curiosity  to 
look  into  the  mystery  of  human  existence,  increases 
every  day  ;  and  it  becomes  the  more  intense  as  I  find 
myself  approaching  the  time  when  the  veil  shall  be 
lifted  up,  and  we  shall  know  more  —  I  shall  be  glad 
even  to  know  something  — of  ourselves.  Jesus  Christ 
taught  us  nothing  of  a  future  life  beyond  its  certainty 
and  its  retributive  character,  as  growing  out  of  our 
moral  nature.  What  the  theologians  make  of  human 
life  and  its  purposes  and  its  mysteries,  and  what  they 
teach  of  Providence,  is,  in  general,  a  very  narrow 
lesson,  which  can  satisfy  no  intelligent  and  compre- 
hensive mind. 

But  what  am  I  writing  about  to  you ;  I  am  pre- 
suming, you  see,  rather  too  much  upon  your  pacific 
turn  of  mind.  We  will  turn  the  subject.  Our  good 
friends,  the  S s,  are  well,  and  read  me  your  let- 
ter, in  which,  knowing  my  proximity  to  them,  I 
thought  there  was  one  most  ungracious^ omission. 

Please  to  lodge  with  Mr.   M ,  for  settlement, 

my  out-standing  account  against  his  wife,  for  two 
long  letters,  and  ask  him  to  put  it  in  suit  at  once, 
and  not  to  compound  for  one  farthing  less  than  the 
demand,  principal  and  interest.  Mr.  B is  figur- 
ing away  in  grand  style  at  Rome.     Miss  F is 

there,  inditing  many  an  agreeable  line.  Say  to  your 
brother  all  that  is  kind,  and  take  in  Quaker  measure 
the  same  for  yourself.     Yours  truly. 


330        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 


LETTER  CXCVII. 

TO    G.    M.,    ESQ,. 

Paris,  7th  February,  1848. 
My  Good  Friend: 

I  HAVE  a  few  moments  to  say  a  few  words  to  you. 
If  you  don't  wish  to  hear  them,  look  at  the  end  of 
the  letter,  and  then  do  as  you  please.     As  to  Mrs. 

M ,  I  don't  say  she  is  out  of  my  books,  but  she 

soon  will  be  if  you  do  your  duty,  for  I  have  written 

to  Miss  J ,  with  a  request  that  she  would  desire 

you  to  sue  my  account  against  Mrs.  M ,  for  two 

long  letters  or  more,  and  make  no  composition  short 
of  the  full  payment  of  principal,  interest,  and  costs. 
I  shall  take  care  with  whom  I  open  accounts  again. 
She  pretended  to  be  so  good  when  she  was  here,  and 
seemed  so  dreadfully  disturbed  at  my  free  opinions, 
and  looked  over  her  spectacles  with  such  marvellous 
surprise  whenever  you  said  devil,  or  any  such  naughty 

word,  and  when  Mr.  B gave  an  account  of  his 

amazing  adventures  at  the  bal  masque  —  and  yet  we 
see  what  she  is ;  of  a  piece  with  the  rest  of  the  sex, 
in  whom,  it  seems,  no  reliance  is  to  be  placed  since 
the  days  of  their  first  being  given  to  men.  Solomon 
was  certainly  quite  right  when  he  says,  "  A  ')nan 
among  a  thousand  have  I  found,  but  a  woman  among 
ten  thousand  have  I  not  found ;  for  God  made  man 
upright,  but  they  —  that  is,  the  women  — have  sought 
out  many  inventions."    However,  we  must  bear  with 


LETTER    CXCVU.  331 

them,  and  I  assure  you,  my  dear  Mr.  M ,  of  my 

unaffected  condolence. 

You  say  you  don't  know  what  is  to  become  of 
John  Bull.  Some  persons  believe  and  say  that  he  is 
in  a  fair  way  to  have  his  horns  filed  down  or  sawed 
off;  and  the  sooner  that  is  done,  so  much  the  better 
for  the  peace  of  the  world.  They  add,  (mind  I  do 
not  give  you  my  opinion,)  it  would  be  a  great  bles- 
sing if  England  could  become  a  complete  tabula 
rasa,  and  begin  again  ;  she  is  so  full  of  anomalies 
and  corruptions.  Patch  her  up  as  you  will,  and  the 
new  cloth  only  makes  the  rent  worse.  Close  up  one 
sore,  and  half  a  dozen  new  ones  break  out.  Her 
arrogance  and  insolence,  they  say,  are  insufferable. 
She  has  got  to  understand,  as  Cobden  recently  said, 
"  that  England  is  not  the  whole  world."  That  she 
has  never  yet  comprehended.  The  Duke  of  Wel- 
lington has  lately  frightened  the  people  out  of  their 
wits,  by  a  threatened  French  invasion  ;  and  Q,ueen 
Victoria  probably  dreams  every  night  of  waking  up 
and  seeing  Napoleon  standing  over  her  bed  with  a 
drawn  sword,  and  Prince  Albert  running  away  in  a 
fright.  She  has  lately  sent  for  the  discoverer  of  chloro- 
form, Professor  Simpson,  of  Edinburgh,  to  come  to 
stay  at  the  palace.  The  papers  say  it  is  for  another 
object,  but  probably  it  is  to  quiet  her  nerves  in  case  of 
the  French  attack.  I  think  there  is  as  much  danger 
of  an  American  as  a  French  invasion. 

The  Continental  atmosphere  is  quite  disturbed.  I 
do  not  look  for  much  from  the  Pope,  though  he  is 
probably  a  man  who  wishes  well  to  his  people.  But 
Roman    Catholicism    and    liberty  are    incompatible 


332        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

with  each  other,  and  we  know  to  what  he  will  hold 
on.  The  King  of  Naples  needs  to  be  scared  a  little  ; 
and  if  he  does  not  take  immediate  heed  to  his  ways, 
he  may  find  himself  with  his  head  under  his  arms  — 
certainly  not  an  agreeable  position  in  which  to  carry 
it.  The  Emperor  of  Austria  seems  likewise  to  be 
"  meeting  with  his  disagreeables."  The  political  pot 
is  every  where  simmering,  and  will  presently  boil 
over,  and  many  will  be  scalded.  I  am  not  looking 
either  for  a  political  or  theological  millenium,  and  I 
do  not  forget  the  fable  of  the  fox  and  the  flies,  when 
some  friendly  hand  oflered  to  drive  away  the  swarms 
which  hung  upon  his  neck  and  head.  Let  them 
remain,  said  he,  for  they  axe  already  glutted  ;  but  these 
being  driven,  fresh  swarms  will  arrive  with  all  their 
teeth  sharp  set.  I  should  be  glad  to  see  all  the 
curses,  and  evils,  and  enormous  oppressions  of  all  bad 
governments  corrected ;  but  who  are  the  men  who 
propose  to  correct  them  ?  are  they  honest  ?  are  they 
disinterested?  have  they  a  settled  plan  and  settled 
principles  ?  Remove  those  who  are  now  in  power, 
and  put  in  those  who  complain  of  them,  and  what 
guarantee  is  there  of  their  fidelity  to  their  professions  ? 
Power,  avarice,  luxury,  ambition,  under  the  stimulus 
of  possession  and  indulgence,  would  soon  corrupt 
them,  let  them  have  begun  ever  so  well,  and  it  would 
not  be  surprising  if  they  went  even  beyond  the 
excesses  of  those  who  preceded  them.  My  only 
hope  of  the  amelioration  of  the  condition  of  society, 
is  in  an  enlightened  public  opinion,  which  shall  have 
free  play  to  dart  its  lightnings  and  to  pour  out  its 
thunders.     Few   men    can   stand    up   against   this. 


LETTER    CXCVIII.  333 

Ireland,  placed  under  the  hand  of  Daniel  O'Connel, 
the  son  of  liberty,  would  probably  have  had  the 
fiercest,  the  most  cruel,  and  most  thoroughly  perse- 
cuting and  bigoted  government  which  can  be  found 
in  all  history. 

I  was  going  to  say,  give  my  love   to  Mrs.  M , 

but  I  shall  suspend  that  until  I  hear  further.  Now 
adieu.  We  all  thank  Heaven  for  your  restoration. 
Repent  of  your  sins,  while  you  can.     Yours  truly. 


LETTER  CXCVIII. 

Paris,  7tli  February,  1848. 
My  Dear  A : 

1  AVAIL  myself  of  a  very  short  notice  to  give  you 
a  few  lines. 

I  had  just  begun  this  letter,  when  a  friend  called 
on  me  to  go  with  him  to  a  little  Protestant  church, 
where  I  usually  attend,  and  where  sometimes  I  have 
heard  as  good  preaching  as  I  ever  listened  to.  It  is 
in  French,  but  not  difficult  to  understand.  There 
are  three  ministers,  who  supply  this  church,  and  one 
of  them  is  a  person  of  remarkable  power.  I  some- 
times attend  the  Oratoire,  to  hear  M.  Coquerel,  who 
is  reputed  the  most  eloquent  man  in  Paris  —  at  least, 
by  the  Protestants.  I  admit  and  I  admire  his  elo- 
quence. He  is  said  to  have  studied  under  Talma  ; 
but  he  is  too  eloquent  for  me  ;  there  is  too  much  of 
art  and  display  about  him  ;  this  is  not  to  my  taste  in 
the  pulpit.     The   minister   here,  whom  I  like,  is  a 


334  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

simple,  unpretending  man  ;  full  of  his  subject ;  over- 
powered by  his  own  convictions  of  its  truth  and 
importance ;  forgetting  himself  entirely ;  and  evidently 
having  no  other  object,  than  to  communicate  to  your 
mind  and  heart  the  impressions  which  rest  on  his. 
You  are  enlightened,  convinced,  warmed,  persuaded, 
overpowered  ;  but  in  all  this  you  have  not  once 
thought  whether  he  is  a  man  of  genius,  whom  you 
have  been  listening  to,  or  whether  he  is  an  eloquent 
man ;  you  have  not  thought  of  the  man  at  all,  but 
only  of  what  he  has  said.  This  gentleman  differs 
from  me  entirely  in  many  matters  of  faith  and  opinion. 
I  heard  him  preach,  the  other  day,  upon  a  subject, 
in  which,  it  might  be  said,  our  views  were  wholly 
opposite  in  the  main  ;  but  I  scarcely  ever  in  my  life 
listened  to  a  sermon  with  more  interest,  pleasure,  and, 
I  may  say,  effect  ;  for  the  perfect  sincerity  of  his 
manner,  and  the  elevation  and  grandeur  of  his  views, 
actually  overcame  me  to  tears  more  than  once,  and 
almost  compelled  me  to  rise  from  my  seat. 

The  French  preaching  is  wholly  different  from  the 
English,  and,  in  my  opinion,  immeasurably  superior. 
In  general,  the  preaching  in  England  is  very  dull, 
especially  in  the  Established  Church ;  it  is  formal, 
cold,  uninstructive,  and  seems  to  have  but  two  objects ; 
one,  to  fill  up  the  fifteen  or  twenty  minutes  interval 
in  the  service  ;  and  the  other,  to  persuade  the  people 
that  the  church  is  the  church,  the  whole  church,  and 
nothing  but  the  church,  and  they  must  stand  at  their 
posts  to  keep  it  up  and  defend  it  against  heretics  and 
what  they  call  infidels.  I  think  they  need  not  take 
all  this  trouble,  for  it  is  in  vain,  and  the  church  is  in 


LETTER    CXCVIII.  335 

a  fair  way  to  tumble  about  their  ears.  A  few  more 
quarrels  among  the  bishops,  and  a  few  more  prose- 
cutions in  courts  of  law,  and  the  fabric  will  be  shaken. 
The  French,  on  the  other  hand,  are  full  of  life  ; 
preach  practical  as  well  as  doctrinal  sermons  ;  never 
use  any  notes,  or,  at  least,  never  read  their  sermons  ; 
and  throw  themselves  entirely  into  their  subject.  I 
wish  many  of  our  young  men  could  study  in  their 
schools. 

After  church,  I  called  on  Mr.  P ,  for  whom  I 

have  a  great  regard  and  interest,  both  on  his  own 
account  and  on  account  of  his  friends.  Lady  Nor- 
manby  gives  a  great  ball  on  Friday  next,  to  which  I 
had  my  invitation  some  days  ago.  I  am  allowed  to 
regard  both  her  and  Lord  Normanby,  who  is  the 
British  Ambassador  here,  as  personal  friends ;  and, 
therefore,  I  ventured  to  do,  what  I  certainly  should 
not  have  been  willing  to  do  for  myself,  or  hardly  for 
any  other  person  ;  and  wrote  her  a  note,  saying  that 
I  had  an  excellent  young  friend  here,  whom  I  wished 
the  honor  of  presenting  to  herself  and  Lord  Norman- 
by on  the  evening  when  she  would  be  "At  home;" 
and  the  invitation  for  Mr.  P came  instantly. 

This  will,  I  suppose,  finish  my  dissipation  for  the 
winter,  unless  I  should  attend  the  charity  ball  at  the 
Jardin  D-Hiver,  to  be  given  for  the  poor  English  in 
Paris.  This  winter  garden  is  certainly  the  most 
beautiful  place  I  ever  saw.  It  is  a  building  with  a 
glass  roof,  and  a  great  portion  of  the  sides  also,  ex- 
cepting where  they  are  lined  with  large  mirrors,  cov- 
ering a  space  of  more  than  an  acre  ;  having  a  magnifi- 
cent fountain,  with  a  brilliant  cascade,  at  one  end  — 


336        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

the  fountain  sending  up  its  beautiful  jet  of  water  at 
least  fifty  feet  high,  with  a  considerable  basin  of 
water  at  the  bottom,  in  which  two  swans  are  float- 
ing ;  with  several  handsome  evergreen  trees,  such 
as  the  Norfolk  pine,  whose  foliage  is  exquisitely 
beautiful,  and  innumerable  green-house  plants,  japon- 
icas,  &c.,  <fcc.,  in  full  flower;  with  a  large  grass  plat 
near  the  centre,  and  many  parteiTes  of  flowers  ;  with 
an  aviary  in  one  corner ;  with  elegant  busts  and 
statues,  arranged  with  the  utmost  taste  ;  with  a  long 
gallery  of  pictures  before  you  enter  the  garden,  cov- 
ering the  walls  of  a  large  dancing  hall,  and  a  large 
open  space  for  dancing  in  the  transept  —  for  it  is  made 
in  the  form  of  a  cross  ;  with  various  seats  and  benches 
for  recreation ;  with  rooms  of  refreshment,  cafes, 
and  restaurants  ;  with  a  splendid  gallery  for  a  large 
band  of  music ;  and  every  appendage  which  can 
minister  to  luxury,  taste,  or  pleasure.  A  ball  for 
more  than  four  thousand  people  (upwards  of  five 
thousand  tickets  were  sold  for  a  Napoleon  apiece, 
without  refreshments,  which  you  buy)  was  given 
there  a  few  evenings  since  ;  and  when  the  whole 
was  lighted  up,  I  am  told  that  nothing  was  ever  seen 
here  half  so  beautiful,  and  certainly  nothing  in  any 
other  country  is  to  be  compared  to  it.  The  Duke  of 
Devonshire's  conservatory  makes  the  nearest  ap- 
proach ;  but  it  is  not  so  large,  and  you  would  say  it 
was  without  taste  compared  with  this  French  estab- 
lishment. This  Parisian  establishment  is  reported 
to  have  cost  more  than  six  hundred  thousand  dollars, 
and  they  are  still  expending  upon  it.  You  can  judge 
from  this  wliat  they  are  willing  to  pay  for  their  plea- 


LETTER    CXCIX.  337 

sures  ia  Paris.     I  believe  no  city  was  ever  like  it  for 
gaiety  taste,  and  luxury. 

My  love  to  all.  I  look  at  the  children's  pictures 
very  often,  and  long  to  see  the  originals.  That 
felicity  is,  I  hope,  not  far  distant. 


LETTER  CXCIX. 

Paris,  22d  Febniarj,  1848. 
Mt  Deah  M : 

In  my  own  affairs  there  is  not  much  variety,  and  I 
have  only  to  say  that  in  the  last  fortnight  the  weather 
has  changed  for  the  better,  and  that  we  are  looking 
forward  to  the  early  approach  of  spring.  To-day  I 
went  with  some  friends  to  the  beautiful  garden  of 
plants,  one  of  the  glories  of  Paris,  and  the  birds  were 
as  plenty  and  as  merry  as  if  the  spring  had  been  fully 
installed. 

Paris  is  full  of  Americans,  and  they  everywhere 
form  a  large  proportion  of  the  travelling  community. 
I  am  obliged  to  deny  myself  the  pleasure  of  cultivat- 
ing the  French  society  as  much  as  I  should  be  glad, 
and  have  it  in  my  power  to  do,  for  it  would  be  diffi- 
cult to  find  any  thing  more  refined  or  more  agreeable. 
The  Americans  in  general,  who  come  here,  see  very 
ittle  and  know  very  little  of  it.  They  go  to  the 
most  expensive  hotels ;  they  dine  most  luxuriously, 
at  the  most  expensive  cafes  ;  they  go  to  the  operas, 
the  theatres,  the  masked  balls,  the  low  balls,  held  in 
various  parts  of  Paris.     Their  valets- de-place,  who, 

VOL.    II.  15 


338        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

in  general,  are  wholly  unworthy  of  confidence,  show 
them  the  worst  places,  and  carry  them  to  the  vilest 
exhibitions.  They,  in  truth,  see  only  the  most  profli- 
gate and  worst  parts  of  Paris,  and  then  they  leave, 
thinking  that  they  understand  the  French  ;  and  as 
they  come  here,  especially  if  they  come  through 
England,  believing  that  the  French  are  a  people 
without  morals  or  religion,  and  wholly  abandoned  to 
sensual  pleasures,  they  go  away  with  all  their  preju- 
dices confirmed,  if  not  exaggerated.  But  this,  so  far 
as  my  experience  and  observation  go,  is  doing  the 
French  injustice.  I  myself  came  with  not  a  few 
of  these  prejudices,  but  my  views  are  materially 
changed.  That  there  is  an  immense  amount  of  dis- 
soluteness, profligacy,  and  crime,  in  Paris,  it  would 
be  idle  to  deny  ;  but  I  believe  there  is  a  full  share, 
compared  with  other  large  cities,  of  virtue,  and  I  will 
add,  of  religion. 

In  sobriety,  industry,  and  frugality,  the  French 
seem  to  me  to  excel  all  others.  I  make  no  excep- 
tion. I  never  knew  a  people  where  there  is  so  much 
charity  to  the  poor ;  and  as  to  church-going,  so  far 
as  that  constitutes  religion,  no  people  go  before  them  ; 
and  in  no  places  of  religious  worship  have  I  ever 
seen  more  attention,  more  decorum,  or  more  appa- 
rent devotion.  I  should  as  soon  think  of  seeing  a 
dead  man  sitting  erect  in  a  chair  at  church,  as  seeing 
an  individual  in  the  congregation  asleep.  The 
churches  too  are  all  free.  You  may  make  some  con- 
tribution at  the  door  if  you  choose,  but  nothing  is 
demanded.  In  the  Protestant  churches,  the  congre- 
gation are  all  seated  in  chairs,  and  there  is  no  dis- 


LETTER    CXCIX.  339 

tinction  in  seats,  so  that  a  gentleman  or  lady  of  the 
highest  rank  will  be  found  seated  along  side  of  the 
most  humble  laborer,  who  goes  in  his  frock,  or  if  a 
woman,  in  her  cap.  In  the  Catholic  churches,  a 
large  portion  of  the  church  is  always  free,  but  by 
giving  two  sous  or  cents  to  the  attendant,  she  will 
give  you  a  chair ;  and  she  will  take  no  more  than 
that,  so  that  if  you  give  her  more  she  will  return  the 
change.  As  to  domestic  attachments  in  France,  I 
believe  there  is  a  full  share  of  fidelity  and  domestic 
comfort ;  and  wherever  I  have  been  admitted  into 
their  sanctums,  (and  in  no  country  is  it  more  diffi- 
cult to  get  into  their  home  retreats,)  nothing  can  be 
more  charming,  and  nothing  more  afi'ectionate. 

A  very  well  informed  and  most  respectable  Amer- 
ican of  my  acquaintance,  who  has  resided  in  France 
twenty-five  years,  in  Paris  and  in  the  country,  says, 
he  does  not  believe  that  there  is  in  any  country  more 
conjugal  fidelity  or  stronger  domestic  affections  ;  and 
that,  in  this  respect,  the  best  French  society  is  a  pic- 
ture of  what  is  most  charming  in  domestic  life.  I 
have  another  friend  who  has  been  intimate  in  French 
society  for  seven  years,  and  he  emphatically  confirms 
this  statement.  I  do  not  speak  of  court  manners  or 
of  fashionable  life,  where  what  is  properly  called  do- 
mestic life,  with  all  its  beautiful  attachments,  can 
scarcely  be  looked  for  ;  though  it  must  be  acknowl- 
edged that  the  present  King  of  France,  in  private 
life,  is  without  reproach,  and  the  Q,ueen  and  ladies 
of  the  royal  family  are  eminent  examples  of  modesty, 
goodness,  and  piety. 

I  was  told  in  England,  before  I  came  to  Paris,  that 


340  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

I  should  be  constantly  cheated ;  but  I  have  never 
been  cheated  at  all.  I  was  told  that  when  I  went 
into  their  shops,  I  must  always  beat  down  their  price, 
at  least  one-half.  I  soon  gave  up  the  attempt,  for  I 
found  it  wholly  useless,  and  never  knew  people  so 
stiff  and  unyielding  as  they  are  in  their  prices.  My 
tailor,  my  shoemaker,  my  hatter,  and  my  shirt-maker, 
have  always  used  me  in  the  best  possible  manner  ; 
and,  in  some  cases,  when  they  have  had  opportuni- 
ties of  taking  advantage  of  me,  they  have  shown  no 
inclination  to  do  so ;  and  would,  I  believe,  have 
indignantly  spurned  the  thought. 

The  French  have  distinguished  themselves  by 
their  philanthropic  efforts  and  institutions.  They 
are  the  founders  of  the  institutions  for  teaching  the 
deaf  and  dumb,  and  the  instruction  of  the  blind ;  and 
if  they  did  not  begin,  they  have  at  least  followed 
with  the  most  devoted  success,  the  system  of  the 
mild  treatment  of  the  insane — an  immense  gain  to 
humanity,  in  place  of  the  cruel  system  which  for- 
merly prevailed,  of  reducing  find  controlling  this 
wretched  and  most  pitiable  class  of  beings  by  stripes 
and  blows,  fetters  and  dungeons  ;  enough,  in  most 
cases,  to  drive  a  sane  man  mad,  and  to  extinguish  all 
hopes  of  restoration.  I  visited  one  of  the  most 
extensive  establishments  of  this  kind,  where  mercy 
and  kindness  reigned  triumphant,  and  where  the 
keeper  was  everywhere  recognized  as  a  father  and 
friend.     Yours  truly. 


LETTER   CC.  341 


LETTER  CC. 

Paris,  22d  February,  1848. 
Mt  Dea.k  Sir: 

You  are  so  busy  that  I  hardly  dare  write  to  you, 
and  yet,  I  hope  a  letter  will  not  be  unwelcome. 

This  boat  will  carry  out  great  intelligence  in. 
regard  to  the  political  condition  of  France.  The 
south  is  in  commotion,  and  it  will  not  be  surprising 
if  the  rising  flood  sweeps  over  the  whole  of  Europe. 
The  immense  and  gigantic  form  of  Russian  despot- 
ism may  present  an  impassable  barrier,  at  least  for 
awhile  ;  but  for  other  monarchs  to  attempt  to  stand 
up  against  it,  would  be  like  Canute's  attempting  to 
stop,  by  his  command,  the  flowing  of  the  tide.  The 
gain  which  has  been  achieved  in  Switzerland,  in 
Italy,  in  Naples,  and  Sicily,  in  favor  of  populsir  rights, 
has  had  its  full  influence  upon  the  minds  of  the 
French,  as  their  enthusiasm,  and  the  influence  of 
their  two  revolutions,  in  which  arbitrary  power  has 
been  put  down  by  the  popular  will,  have  had  their 
action  upon  these  other  countries.  The  French, 
however,  have,  for  a  long  time,  been  dissatisfied  with 
the  condition  of  their  electoral  franchise,  in  the  ex- 
ercise of  which  they  have  been  most  efiectually 
controlled,  if  not  by  money,  at  least  by  executive 
patronage.  The  opposition,  who  are  in  favor  of 
electoral  reforms,  have  held  banquets  for  political 
discussion,  and  proposed  to  hold  one  in  Paris  to-day. 


342        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

The  government  determined  yesterday  to  put  it  down 
by  force.  The  banquet,  after  the  demonstration  and 
proclamations  of  the  government  last  evening,  was- 
abandoned ;  but  the  streets  to-day  have  been  full  of 
small  gossiping  parties  ;  and  in  some  of  the  streets 
immense  crowds  were  collected,  evidently  in  a  state 
of  the  highest  fermentation.  At  least  eighty  thou- 
sand troops  are  now  in  Paris,  and  many  thousands, 
both  horse  and  foot,  were  on  duty  to-day  in  different 
parts  of  the  city.  Several  charges  have  been  made 
upon  the  people  by  the  troops,  but  no  shot  have  been 
fired.  In  some  cases,  they  have  got  the  fire  engines 
out,  and  played  upon  the  crowd,  which  dispersed 
them  for  a  while.  Several  shops,  where  arms  are 
sold,  have  been  broken  open,  and  the  arms  carried 
away.  Some  persons  have  been  thrown  down  by 
the  cavalry  and  much  injured.  It  was  reported  that 
four  persons  had  been  killed;  but  I  believe  it  is  pre- 
mature. Some  barricades  have  been  attempted  to  be 
erected  in  the  streets,  and  the  pavements  broken  up  ; 
but  the  dragoons  have,  in  such  cases,  charged  upon 
the  crowd,  and  compelled  them  to  retreat.  It  was 
greatly  feared  that  the  night  would  not  pass  off  with- 
out disturbance ;  but  it  is  now  past  midnight,  and  I 
have  just  been  out  into  the  most  disturbed  parts  of 
the  town,  where  every  thing  is  as  quiet  as  the  coun- 
try. A  few  restaurants  are  open  ;  no  cabs  or  voitures 
are  on  the  stand;  there  are  many  groups  of  people; 
and  the  gens  d'armes,  and  the  armed  police,  and 
occasionally  a  detachment  of  the  line  passed  me ; 
but  there  was  no  indication  of  disturbance,  and  I 
trust  there  will  not  be  any.     I  was  in  the  midst  of 


LETTER    CC.  343 

the  crowd  several  times  this  afternoon  ;  there  was 
great  excitement  and  feeling,  but  they  want  a  leader. 
You  will  see  in  the  papers  the  proceedings  in  the 
Chamber  of  Deputies.  I  would  send  you  all  the 
particulars,  but  you  will  get  them  there.  I  believe 
all  violence  at  present  in  Paris  will  be  kept  down, 
unless  the  troops  should  fire  upon  the  people,  which 
would  produce  a  general  if  not  an  instant  explosion. 
The  matter  will  not  end  here.  The  government  are 
evidently  in  the  wrong.  It  was  wholly  unnecessary 
and  gratuitous  to  allude  to  the  reform  banquets  in 
the  speech  of  the  King  and  in  the  answer  to  the 
King's  speech,  in  which  the  opposition  consider 
themselves,  and  with  reason,  wantonly  insulted  by 
the  ministry.  The  government  must  yield.  The 
country  will  never  submit  to  have  the  right  of  meet- 
ing and  the  right  of  public  discussion  invaded  or 
abridged  ;  and  the  right  will  be  established  "  peace- 
ably if  they  can,  forcibly  if  they  must."  An  Ameri- 
can, of  course,  cannot  possibly  understand  how,  under 
a  free  government,  such  a  right  should  ever  be  called 
in  question. 

This  letter  will  go  to-morrow  forenoon;  should 
any  thing  new  transpire  to-night,  I  will  let  you  have 
it  in  the  morning,  though  Paris  is  so  large  and  com- 
pact, that  the  greatest  events  may  be  taking  place  in 
some  parts  of  the  city,  without  being  known  at  all 
in  other  parts. 

The  times,  however,  are  ominous,  and  the  future 
is  evidently  pregnant  with  great  events,  which  must 
essentially  affect  the  condition  of  society.  Yours 
truly. 


344        EUKOPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

P.  S.  23d.  The  night  has  passed  off  tranquilly, 
the  stores  are  open,  and  the  course  of  business  ap- 
pears to  be  resumed. 


LETTER  CCI. 


TO    MRS.    B- 


Paris,  27th  February,  1848. 
My  Dear  Friend: 

I  KNOW  you  will  be  glad  to  hear  from  me,  but  this 
is  really  the  first  quiet  hour  which  I  have  had  for  a 
week.  It  will  require  likewise  no  small  effort  to 
compose  myself  sufficiently  to  give  you  such  a  letter 
as  I  should  be  willing  to  send,  or  you,  perhaps,  wil- 
ling to  read.  Do  not  think  that  I  am  disturbed  by 
fear ;  but  I  may  be  carried  away  by  emotions  to 
which  I  should  find  it  extremely  difficult  to  give 
utterance.  I  have  read  many  a  page  of  interesting 
history  in  my  closet,  with  no  other  emotions  than 
that  feeble  sympathy  which  one  feels  in  events 
occurring  in  distant  lands,  among  people  who  are 
strangers,  and  over  which  the  lapse  of  years  and 
centuries  have  thrown  that  obscurity  or  imperfect 
outline  which  robs  them  in  some  measure  of  their 
reality  and  gives  them  the  stamp  of  fiction.  But  I 
have  been  the  last  week  a  personal  witness,  a  spec- 
tator of,  I  may  add  even  a  participant  in,  events 
than  which  history  records  none  more  remarkable, 
romance  can  picture  none  more  exciting,  and  which 


LETTER    CCl.  345 

are  destined  to  become  immortal  in  the  chronicles  of 
human  courage,  patriotism,  disinterestedness,  and 
magnanimity ;  and  than  which,  on  the  other  hand, 
nothing  can  be  more  striking  in  illustrating  tlie  van- 
ity of  human  ambition,  pride,  and  confidence,  the 
extraordinary  vicissitudes  to  which  all  human  affairs 
are  liable,  and  the  curious  and  affecting  proximity  in 
which  the  extremes  in  the -human  condition,  most 
unexpectedly,  and  in  spite  of  the  most  cunning  and 
the  most  confident  calculations,  sometimes  present 
themselves.  The  proud  monarch,  seated  on  his 
throne,  wielding  a  sceptre  studded  with  diamonds, 
and  commanding  the  willing  and  servile  homage  of 
millions,  in  one  short  hour  a  miserable  fugitive,  ask- 
ing succor  and  protection  even  from  the  humblest  of 
his  vassals,  his  palace  sacked,  his  throne  torn  into 
fragments,  and  his  name  pronounced  only  with 
indignation,  reads  a  most  impressive  lesson.  A  great 
people  rising  in  a  united  phalanx  in  the  assertion  of 
rights  which  none  but  slaves  would  surrender,  in 
defiance  of  a  military  force  which  seemed  sufficient 
at  the  first  blow  to  crush  them  into  atoms ;  baring 
their  bosoms  to  the  storm,  and  moving  with  a  force 
of  moral  power  before  which  cannon  became  dumb 
and  swords  fell  powerless  by  the  side,  is  a  sublime 
sight,  which  stirs  the  minds  of  men  from  their  very 
depths,  as  the  sea  itself  is  moved  in  a  storm.  Such 
events  have  constituted  here  the  history  of  the  last 
week.  They  will  be  read  with  emotion  as  long  as  a 
trace  remains  upon  the  human  memory.  They  will 
constitute  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  pages  in 
history ;  and  they  are  destined  to  exert  an  influence 

VOL..    II.  15* 


346  EUROPEAN    LITE    AND    MANNERS. 

upon  the  present  and  future  condition  and  destinies 
of  the  world,  which  no  human  sagacity  can  measure. 

The  details  have  been  given  to  you  through  the 
public  journals  ;  but  all  description  is  tame  compared 
with  the  reality  and  personal  observation  of  this 
mighty  movement,  and  I  can  only  say  that  if  the 
future,  in  the  conduct  of  this  great  people,  corres- 
ponds with  the  commencement,  the  moral  glory 
which  will  belong  to  them  will  be  surpassed  by 
nothing  which  history  records,  and  cast  into  obscu- 
rity all  the  miserable  glories  of  ambition,  pride,  and 
military  conquest,  which  glitter  upon  its  pages,  and 
have,  in  all  periods,  so  dazzled  the  imaginations  of 
men. 

I  have  been  amidst  the  whole  of  the  great  move- 
ment. I  had  not  left  five  minutes  the  very  spot 
where  sixty-two  persons  fell  wounded,  or  killed  by 
the  first  wanton  attack  of  the  soldiery.  The  exact 
spot  where  I  stood  1  visited  the  next  morning,  and  I 
found  it  covered  with  pools  of  human  blood.  I  heard 
the  fatal  fire  when  I  had  just  turned  the  corner  of  the 
next  street.  The  next  day  I  was  within  a  few  yards 
of  the  great  battle,  standing  in  the  same  street  and 
seeing  the  flashes  of  the  guns.  I  was  in  the  palace 
of  the  Tuilleries,  with  an  immense  crowd,  when  the 
royal  family  had  scarcely  got  out  of  hearing. 

On  the  part  of  the  French  people  in  Paris,  all  this 
has  been  accomplished  with  a  determination,  courage, 
disinterestedness,  and  magnanimity  which  are  truly 
grand.  Their  conduct  has  scarcely  been  stained  with 
a  single  private  excess.     Though  all  the  wine  shops 


LETTER    CCI.  347 

have  been  open,  and  free,  I  have  seen  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  people,  and  I  have  not  seen  a  single 
drunken  person.  They  threw  out  the  King's  bust 
and  destroyed  the  pictures  of  him,  and  burnt  the 
furniture  of  the  Palais  Royal,  which  was  his  private 
property,  and  his  palace  at  Neuilly,  a  wantonness  of 
destruction  which  I  admit  was  wholly  without  ex- 
cuse, and  seemed  the  disgraceful  ebullition  of  imbe- 
cile rage.  The  palace  at  Neuilly  was  destroyed  by 
a  mob  of  liberated  malefactors,  a  large  body  of  whom 
met  their  fate  in  the  cellars  of  the  palace.  These 
crimes  were  condemned  by  the  people ;  though  in 
such  a  state  of  commotion,  when,  in  fact,  there  was 
no  government,  it  is  difficult  to  say  how  they  could 
be  prevented ;  and  they  were  certainly  not  charac- 
teristic of  the  mass  of  the  revolutionists. 

They  plundered  nothing  in  the  Tuilleries;  they 
suJTered  no  person  to  take  even  from  the  flames  a 
single  article,  and  they  left  the  clothes  of  the  ladies 
untouched  ;  they  saved  their  diamonds  and  their 
bijoux  ;  they  watched  every  person  who  went  in ; 
they  searched  every  person  who  came  out ;  and  to 
my  certain  knowledge  they  shot  three  persons 
instantly  who  had  been  plundering,  and  then  exposed 
their  bodies  with  an  inscription  of  robbers  upon 
them. 

The  contributions  for  the  wounded,  and  the  fam- 
ilies of  those  who  were  killed,  are  immense.  Every- 
body contributes.  The  Provisional  Government  has 
been  formed  by  general  consent,  and  is  composed  of 
some  of  the  first  men  in  character  and  intellect  in 
the  country,  and  their  decrees  are  everywhere  re- 


348        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

spected  and  obeyed.  They  have  determined  on  the 
immediate  abolition  of  all  slavery ;  on  the  abolition 
of  the  punishment  of  death  for  political  offences ;  on 
perfect  liberty  of  speech,  of  the  press,  of  conscience, 
and  of  worship,  and  the  separation  of  the  church 
from  the  state.  Half  a  million  of  people  have  been 
in  the  Boulevards  to-day,  and  though  I  walked  at 
least  six  miles  among  a  crowd  so  compact  that  you 
could  only  edge  your  way,  I  saw  not  a  single  in- 
stance of  incivility  or  rudeness,  and  heard  not  a 
single  oath  or  angry  word.  They  proceeded  in  a 
magnanimous  manner  to  pledge  themselves  to  the 
new  government.  I  cannot  say  what  the  future  will 
be.  I  will  hope  the  best,  though  from  my  past  ex- 
perience, my  hope  is  strongly  mingled  with  fear. 

I  think  you  will  feel  the  rippling  of  this  great 
wave  on  your  shores.  It  is  after  one  o'clock,  and 
the  streets  are  as  quiet  as  the  country.     Adieu. 

28th.  —  Every  thing  is  quiet,  and  business  has 
resumed  its  circulations. 


LETTER  ecu. 

TO    MRS.    B . 

Paris.  4tli  March,  1848. 
Mt  Dear  I  RiExn : 

Every  thing  is  now  quiet  in  Paris.     Last  Sunday 

was  a  magnificent  day.     The  national  guards,  to  the 

number  of  many  thousands,  and  the  people  by  hun- 


LETTER   ecu.  349 

dreds  of  thousands,  went  in  a  body,  with  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Provisional  government,  to  the  Monument 
at  the  Place  Bastile,  erected  in  memory  of  the  vic- 
tims of  the  revolution  of  July,  1830,  to  consecrate 
themselves  anew  to  the  cause  of  liberty. 

But  to-day  has  been  the  greatest  day,  by  far,  that  I 
have  ever  witnessed  ;  and  the  Queen's  entrance  into 
the  city  of  London,  or  her  procession  to  the  Houses 
of  Parliament,  appear,  in  comparison,  like  mere 
child's  play.  To-day  I  have  seen,  I  believe,  half  a 
million  of  people  —  that  is  to  say,  that  number  has 
lined  the  Boulevards,  extending  more  than  three 
miles,  densely  crowded.  It  was  the  funeral  of  the 
persons  who  were  killed  by  the  soldiery  last  week. 
The  troops,  the  new  recruits,  the  dragoons,  and  the 
infantry ;  the  various  trades  and  professions  ;  the 
universities  and  schools ;  the  government  and  its 
officers ;  the  people  lining  the  streets,  the  people 
filling  the  balconies  and  windows,*  the  hearses  carry- 
ing the  victims  of  that  outrage  ;  the  mourning  wid- 
ows, orphans,  and  children  of  those  who  fell,  all  of 
whom  the  government  adopts  as  its  own  ;  the 
mourning  flags  ;  the  chanting  of  the  national  anthem 
by  immense  bodies  of  men  ;  the  mufiled  drums,  the 
martial  music  of  the  difierent  bands  as  they  passed, 
uttering  the  most  touching  and  electric  sounds  ;  and 
the  admirable  conduct  of  every  body  ;  no  crowding, 
no  pushing,  no  quarrelling,  no  drunkenness,  not  a 
sign  of  intoxication  ;  and  the  morale  surrounding  the 
whole  was  a  scene  of  such  magnificence  and  sub- 
limity, that  no  romance  could  exceed  it,  and  I  should 
deem  it  worth  ten  voyages  across  the  Atlantic  to  have 


350        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

witnessed  it.  I  only  wished  that  Louis  Philippe 
could  have  seen  it,  and  that  other  crowned  heads  and 
many  great  men  in  power  could  have  seen  it,  also ; 
it  would  have  given  them  a  few  lessons  of  prudence, 
which  they  would  not  have  forgotten.  However, 
your  people  could  not  have  understood  it.  Mind 
you,  I  make  -many  exceptions.  But  let  me  say,  that 
I  am  not  without  apprehension  for  the  effects  of  this 
revolution  upon  the  rest  of  Europe.  To  change 
entirely  the  whole  government  of  a  country,  to  over- 
throw a  throne,  and  establish  a  republic  out  of  the 
old  materials  of  a  monarchy,  is  a  mighty  work.  We 
on  our  side  of  the  water  had  few  difficulties  to  con- 
tend with ;  here  they  are  infinite.  So  far,  I  must 
say,  that  the  French,  by  their  bravery  in  asserting 
their  rights,  by  their  courage  in  offering  and  sacri- 
ficing their  lives,  by  their  self-command  in  the  very 
moment  and  under  the  intoxication  of  a  victory,  of 
which  they  at  first  could  hardly  have  dreamed,  by 
their  settling  down  at  once  under  a  Provisional  Gov- 
ernment, and  taking  the  most  judicious  and  the  most 
energetic  measures  for  the  protection  of  person  and 
property,  have  placed  themselves  in  a  high  position.  I 
wish  I  could  tell  you  how  many  beautiful  examples  of 
heroism  and  magnanimity  have  come  under  my  own 
notice ;  but  I  must  leave  this. 

The  Americans  go  in  a  body,  on  Monday,  to  offer 
their  congratulations  to  the  Provisional  Government. 
Many  of  the  Americans  here  are  holders  of  slaves.  I 
should  think  they  would  find  it  difficult  to  congrat- 
ulate the  French  on  the  achievement  of  their  freedom. 
Among  other  resolutions  which  were  presented  to  the 


LETTER   CCIIl.  351 

committee,  was  one  declaring  that,  under  every  free 
government,  "  every  man  should  enjoy  the  absolute 
ownership  and  possession  of  himself ;  "  but  this  reso- 
lution was  immediately  rejected,  as  it  would  throw  a 
firebrand  into  the  meeting.  How  far  is  this  consistent 
with  professed  notions  of  man's  natural  right  to 
liberty  ? 

I  like  your  Queen  as  much  as  you  do.  I  think  she 
is  an  honor  to  her  rank,  and  that  no  person  could  fill 
her  high  station  more  nobly ;  but  do  you  really  think 
that  the  condition  of  your  middling  and  lower  classes 
in  England  is  what  it  should  be  ?  and  that  no  burdens 
are  too  heavy  to  be  borne  ?  and  that  no  condition  of 
society  can  be  devised,  in  which  the  laboring  portion 
of  the  community  shall  have  a  larger  share  of  the 
fruits  of  their  toil  ?  Your  government  seems  to  be 
in  difficulty.  However,  I  have  done  expecting, 
except  in  the  kindness  and  fidelity  of  friends,  any 
great  good,  or  any  very  great  amelioration  of  the 
condition  of  mankind.  Men,  before  they  get  power, 
are  very  philanthropic,  and  noble,  and  generous. 
Give  them  power,  and  every  thing  becomes  changed. 
Yours  truly. 


LETTER  CCni. 

Paris,  8th  March,  1848. 
My  Dear  M : 

I  RECEIVED   your  welcome  letter  by  the  last  boat, 
and,  what  was  most  extraordinary,  but  not  the  less 


352  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

agreeable,  a  postscript  of  a  page  from  that  very  coy 

and  unfrequent  writer,  S ,  for  which  I  beg  you 

to  thank  her. 

I  did  not  intend  to  write  to  you  to-day ;  but  so 
many  interesting  events  have  taken  place  and  are 
still  in  progress  here,  that  I  know  you  would  com- 
plain of  my  silence.  For  the  last  fortnight,  one  has 
lived  here  a  month  in  a  day,  and  events  of  great 
moment  have  occurred  in  such  rapid  succession,  that 
it  would  be  out  of  my  power  to  recapitulate  them. 
The  public  journals  will  do  this  with  sufficient 
accuracy  and  detail,  and  it  will  be  only  for  me  to 
relate  some  matters  of  a  more  personal  nature,  which 
otherwise  you  would  not  receive. 

I  wrote  to  Mr.  M on   the   evening  of  the  22d 

February,  and  added  a  postscript  on  Wednesday 
morning,  the  23d,  in  which  I  stated  that  we  had 
passed  a  tranquil  night,  but  added,  that  if  blood 
should  be  shed,  there  would  be  an  instant  and  gen- 
eral explosion.  The  event  was  not  long  in  occurring, 
and  the  prediction  was  fulfilled.  Wednesday,  having 
had  little  sleep  on  the  night  previous,  I  did  not  rise 
until  eight  o'clock,  and  did  not  go  into  the  street 
until  ten.  I  found  the  streets  full  of  troops,  and  the 
troops,  with  hay  for  their  horses  tied  in  little  bundles 
to  their  saddles,  (I  mean  the  dragoons,  of  course,) 
likewise  small  bags  of  provisions  for  themselves, 
indicating  the  possibility  of  a  campaign  of  some  days. 
I  found  likewise,  immense  bodies  of  infantry,  troops 
of  the  line,  moving  and  stationed  in  different  parts  of 
the  city,  and  likewise  large  bodies  of  the  national 
guard,  or  what  we  should  call  the  militia,  for  whom 


LETTER   CCIII.  353 

I  had  heard  the  "rappel "  beat  before  I  arose.  These 
last  troops  were  not  called  out  the  day  before.  I  soon 
learned,  however,  that  the  ministry  had  resigned, 
that  the  King  was  ready  to  yield  to  the  people,  and 
that  probably  quiet  would  soon  be  restored.  It  w£is 
very  much,  however,  like  the  sea  after  a  storm,  when 
the  heavings  of  what  is  called  a  calm  seem  even 
greater  than  during  the  storm  itself.  Every  thing 
was  in  commotion,  and  I  hezird  that  the  King's  abdi- 
cation would  be  inevitable.  I  dined,  by  invitation, 
with  some  friends,  and  my  anxiety  would  not  allow 
me  to  keep  quiet  in  the  house.  Caution  is  an  organ, 
of  which,  I  believe,  I  have  scarcely  a  trace,  and  a 
deficiency  in  which  has  been  a  source  of  innumerable 
mistakes  and  vexations.  As  I  proceeded  down  the 
Boulevards,  and  reached  the  hotel  of  the  Foreign 
Minister,  M.  Guizot,  about  ten  o'clock,  I  found  a 
large  body  of  troops  drawn  up  in  front,  and  a  very 
compact  crowd  of  people  around  them.  The  Rev. 
Mr.  Parkman  saw  and  accosted  me,  and,  as  I  wished 
to  go  home,  and  we  could  not  pass  the  usual  way 
for  the  troops,  we  descended  a  small  staircase,  to  pass 
by  a  lower  street,  which  is  here  several  feet  lower  than 
the  main  street ;  we  had  not  quitted  the  spot  more 
than  five  minutes,  when  I  heard  the  firing,  which 
killed  and  wounded  sixty-two  persons.  I  confess  to 
you,  I  felt  not  a  little  emotion,  when  on  returning 
the  next  day  to  the  place,  I  found  several  pools  of 
blood  still  remaining,  directly  on  the  spot  where  we 
had  been  standing.  The  news  flew  like  lightning, 
and  before  I  reached  my  own  door  I  found  several 
groups  of  people  collected,  and  in  a  condition  of  the 


354        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

greatest  excitement,  crying  for  vengeance,  breaking 
open  shops  which  contained  arms,  pulling  up  the 
pavements,  seizing  carriages  and  omnibusses,  and 
every  thing  they  oould  lay  hold  of,  to  form  barricades 
in  different  parts  of  the  city.  I  witnessed  these  pro- 
ceedings, remained  in  the  house  about  an  hour,  went 
out  again,  and  remained  abroad  until  one  o'clock. 
Thursday  morning  I  found  five  barricades  erected 
within  a  stone's  throw  of  my  own  door,  and  the  people 
every  where  breathing  nothing  but  fury.  I  called 
on  Mr.  Parkman,  and  he  told  me  he  had  just  seen 
two  of  the  municipal  guards  killed  by  the  people,  and 
their  station-house  burnt.  Every  thing  indicated  a 
most  eventful  day.  We  went  out  together.  The 
streets  were  every  where,  excepting  in  the  immediate 
presence  of  the  troops,  crossed  with  formidable  barri- 
cades of  paving  stones,  trees  cut  down,  carriages 
upturned,  iron  railings  torn  from  the  public  buildings, 
and  every  thing  upon  which  hands  could  be  laid. 
We  first  went  through  an  immense  body,  several 
thousands  of  troops,  dragoons  and  infantry,  who 
allowed  us  to  pass  without  interruption.  We  crossed 
the  Seine,  and  re-crossed  in  front  of  the  palace, 
where  we  found  another  large  body  of  troops.  We 
heard  on  the  side  of  the  river  which  we  had  left,  an 
intense  tumult,  and  a  little  below  a  severe  firing. 
We  found  another  large  body  of  troops  coming  up 
the  street  on  the  side  of  the  river  where  we  stood,  and 
we  ourselves  were  directly  between  two  large  parties, 
not  knowing  whether  they  were  hostile  or  friendly 
to  each  other.  Half  an  hour  before,  they  had  been 
hostile,  and  we  should  have  been  in  the  midst  of  the 


LETTER    CCIII.  355 

conflict :  but  the  party  approaching  us  had  just  gone 
over  to  the  side  of  the  people,  and  put  their  guns 
under  their  arms.  We  were  then  near  the  Palais 
Royal,  the  scene  of  the  principal  engagement,  and 
heard  the  firing.  We  tried  several  streets,  but  every 
mode  of  exit  seemed  to  be  shut  up  either  by  troops 
or  by  armed  men.  We  then  passed  by  some  by- 
passages,  and  this  brought  us  out  within  a  distance 
not  more  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  yards  of  the 
great  conflict,  in  the  same  street,  though  there  were 
several  barricades  between  us.  We  heard  the  firing, 
of  course  ;  we  saw  the  smoke  of  the  guns  and  the 
people  hurrying  on  to  the  fight,  and  we  expected 
every  moment  that  the  troops  would  scale  the  barri- 
cades and  drive  the  people  where  we  stood.  This 
would  have  been  the  case,  had  not  the  principal  body 
of  the  troops  in  the  neighborhood  been  forbidden 
just  before,  to  advance  upon  the  people.  After 
remaining  here  an  hour,  (in  which,  in  the  excitement 
and  fury,  and  terrors  of  the  mingled  crowd  of  men, 
women,  and  children,  I,  for  the  first  time  in  my  life, 
appreciated  some  of  the  horrors  of  war,)  we  found  our 

way  into  the  Boulevards,  where  Mr.  P quitted 

me.  In  less  than  half  an  hour  after,  I  saw  them 
throwing  the  furniture  of  the  Palais  Royal  into  the 
bonfires,  of  which  there  were  ten  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, and  I  then  went  with  an  immense  crowd  into 
the  Palace  of  the  Tuilleries,  which  the  king  had  just 
left.  I  went  in  again  before  night,  with  some  Amer- 
ican friends,  who  could  not  speak  French,  and  desired 
me  to  accompany  them,  as  they  were  afraid  of  being 
recognized  as  foreigners  by  the  mob.     Thus  ended 


356        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

Thursday ;  Friday  and  Saturday  were  quiet.  On 
Saturday  the  shops  were  partially  opened,  and  the 
barricades  removed.  On  Sunday,  the  Boulevards,  for 
three  miles,  were  crowded  with  people  and  soldiers, 
all  hastening  to  pay  their  homage  to  the  Provisional 
Government  at  the  Place  de  Bastile ;  a  most  striking 
display,  but  entirely  eclipsed  by  the  funeral  services, 
which  took  place  on  Saturday,  when  certainly  half  a 
million  of  people  were  in  the  streets,  and  of  the 
solemnity  and  magnificence  of  which  it  is  impossible 
for  me  to  give  you  any  idea.     Yours  ever. 


LETTER  CCIV. 

TO    G.    M ,    ESq. 

Paris,  8th  March,  1848. 
My  Dsab  Me.  M : 

You  will  like  a  letter  at  this  time  from  Paris,  I 
know ;  and  though  I  am  not  in  a  very  good  mood 
for  writing,  you  shall  have  something,  and  that  which 
has  not  been  served  up  before.  You  have  seen  the 
details  of  the  eventful  days  in  Paris.  The  sun  shines 
to-day  in  all  its  brightness  upon  a  city  crowded  with 
life,  and  where  a  stranger  would  suppose  that  com- 
merce, trade,  and  pleasure,  were  all  pursuing  their 
accustomed  course ;  and  would  not  have  the  least 
idea  of  that  political  earthquake  which  first  shook 
every  thing  to  its  foundations,  and  then  poured  out 
its  volcanic  fires  among  a  people  excited  to  the  high- 


LETTER  ccir.  357 

est  degree,  by  the  most  combustible  and  the  strong- 
est passions  which  the  human  heart  can  feel.  So  it 
is,  however ;  Paris  is  perfectly  quiet  —  I  mean  it  has 
all  the  quiet  of  ordinary  life.  I  passed  through  the 
Passage  de  L'Opera,  last  evening,  and  saw  the  usual 
immense  crowd  rushing  into  the  doors  of  the  Bal 
Masque,  in  all  the  fever  and  intoxication  of  gaiety 
and  joy.  Last  evening,  solely  to  recreate  my  own 
mind,  which  has  been  dreadfully  taxed,  I  went  to  the 
Theatre  des  Varietes,  where  I  found  a  crowded  house, 
and  the  people  enjoying,  with  their  usual  gay  humor, 
the  admirable  acting  of  Lafont  and  that  diahlesse 
Dejazet,  and  all  the  jokes  and  buffoonery  of  the  play, 
with  the  same  zest  as  if  during  the  last  fortnight, 
the  streets  instead  of  being  sprinkled  with  blood  had 
only  been  decorated  with  roses ;  and  instead  of  hav- 
ing had  their  slumbers  broken  in  upon  by  cannon, 
they  had  only  been  listening  to  some  charming  sere- 
nade. Let  us  thank  God  that  it  is  so.  Men  cannot 
afford  to  be  melancholy  all  their  lives.  I  have  no 
wish  ever  to  see  them  grieved  or  sorry  but  for  their 
sins  ;  and  that  would  come  often  enough  to  some  of 
us.  The  past  we  cannot  heal,  and  the  only  use  to  be 
made  of  it,  is  to  avail  ourselves  of  its  lessons  for  the 
future. 

But  you  have  too  much  wisdom  and  experience, 
to  think  for  a  moment  that  all  is  over.  "  A  nation 
may  be  born  in  a  day,"  and  the  French  I  believe 
often  baptize  the  child  and  give  it  a  name  on  the 
very  day  of  its  birth ;  but  we  have  got  to  ask  our- 
selves, as  was  asked  with  an  intense  curiosity,  in 
another  case,  "  What  manner  of  child  shall  this  be  ?  " 


358        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

how  is  it  to  be  brought  up  ?  what  is  the  character  of 
its  nurses  and  guardians  ?  And  time  must  be  had 
to  form  its  education,  and  urge  it  as  fast  as  you  can 
without  satiating  or  suffocating  it;  it  must  be  some 
time  before  it  can  assume  the  stature  or  the  firmness 
of  manhood. 

France  has  sworn  to  be  a  republic  ;  that  is  to  say, 
Paris  first  took  the  oath,  and  the  adjuration  has  been 
declared  with  wonderful  unanimity  from  all  the  de- 
partments ;  it  has,  as  they  say,  boomed  up  all  its 
great  rivers,  and  it  has  come  back  in  thunders  from 
its  Alpine  frontiers.  Every  man  asks,  '*  Can  they 
maintain  it  ?  "  The  universal  query  implies  univer- 
sal doubt;  but  not  unmingled  with  hope.  At  least 
they  must  try  it ;  there  is  no  help  for  them  now  but 
to  make  the  experiment,  any  more  than  there  was 
for  us  in  '76,  after  we  had  got  up  and  thrown  Robin- 
son Crusoe's  foot  from  our  neck  and  sworn  that  we 
would  stand  alone.  "God  send  them,"  I  say,  "a 
good  deliverance  !  "  There  is  no  example  in  history 
of  a  people  behaving  with  more  courage,  more  disin- 
terestedness, and  more  magnanimity,  than  they  have 
done  thus  far.  They  have  confirmed  all  my  favora- 
ble impressions  of  them.  I  believe  them  to  be  the 
least  selfish  and  the  least  avaricious  people  in  the 
world.  I  believe  them  to  be  the  most  enlightened 
people  in  the  world ;  and  I  think  they  have  a  full 
share,  as  things  go,  of  moral  principle.  I  do  not  be- 
lieve they  would  make  predatory  war  upon  the  Sikhs 
or  upon  Mexico.  Certainly  the  republicans  would 
not,  whatever  may  be  said  of  the  Arab-burning  Gen. 
Bugeaud.      But  their  task,  at  present,   is  gigantic. 


LETTER    CCIT.  359 

The  people  are  the  most  excitable  people  in  the 
world,  and  having  nothing  of  that  New  England  de- 
liberateness  of  decision,  which,  before  it  begins  to 
build,  sits  down  to  calculate  the  cost.  In  this  case, 
you  see,  they  had  no  time  to  calculate  any  thing.  I 
knew  on  Wednesday,  before  the  fatal  attack  upon 
the  people  in  the  Boulevards,  when  I  myself  came 
very  near  being  shot,  that  the  king  was  to  be  called 
upon  to  abdicate,  but  1  believe  no  person  dreamed  of 
a  republic,  one  hour  before  it  was  demanded  and  pro- 
claimed by  the  Provisional  Government.  They  have 
had,  to  admonish  them,  the  terrible  experience  of  the 
former  revolutions,  especially  of  '90, — and  it  is  to 
be  hoped  it  will  not  be  lost  upon  them,  — but  when 
you  consider  that  a  new  and  immense  fabric  is  to  be 
constructed  at  once,  not  out  of  new  materials,  but 
out  of  the  rubbish  and  broken  fragments  of  an  old 
erection,  lying  all  in  a  heap,  and  with  the  parts 
scarcely  capable  of  being  recognized  or  refitted,  some 
of  the  extraordinary  difficulties  of  the  task  are  to  be 
seen.  Besides,  who  is  the  architect  ?  whose  plan 
will  they  accept  ?  what  is  to  sustain  the  houseless 
and  disorganized  people,  while  the  building  is  in 
the  process  of  erection  ?  who  is  to  arrange  the  family 
after  the  edifice  is  built  ?  for,  according  to  present 
appearances,  not  one  will  work  in  the  kitchen  while 
any  one  serves  in  the  saloon,  nor  a  soul  be  content 
to  occupy  the  basement  if  any  are  to  occupy  the  first 
or  the  second  floors.  The  only  consolation  is,  that 
time  solves  or  removes  all  difficulties.  Those  of  us 
who  are  a  head  taller  than  other  people,  will  not  con- 
sent to  be  cut  down  until  those  who  are  shorter  by 


360  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

a  head,  will  consent  to  be  stretched  out ;  and  there- 
fore the  very  necessities  of  the  case  may  compel  the 
long  and  the  short,  after  all,  to  get  along  arm  in  arm. 
"All  nature's  difference  makes,"  &-c. — you  know 
the  rest.     Yours  truly. 


LETTER  CCV. 

Paria,  8th  March,  1848. 
Mt  Deab  Sib: 

My  prediction  in  my  last  was  speedily  fulfilled. 
Blood  was  spilled ;  the  blood  of  an  unarmed  and  in- 
offensive crowd  was  wantonly  shed,  and  this  decided 
the  whole  course  of  events,  and  extinguished,  at 
least  for  the  present,  the  last  vestige  of  royEdty  in 
France.  Never  did  a  man,  entrusted  with  the  fate  of 
millions,  behave  with  more  folly  and  madness  than 
Louis  Philippe.  The  full  details  of  these  events  will 
reach  you  through  the  newspapers.  But  there  are 
many  questions  which  naturally  suggest  themselves 
in  respect  to  results,  in  reference  to  which  you  may, 
perhaps,  be  curious  to  have  the  opinions  of  a  by- 
stander. The  greatest  events  in  history  have  so  often 
arisen  from,  and  been  dependent  upon,  apparently 
the  most  trivial  accidents,  that  no  human  sagacity  can 
foresee  or  safely  calculate  even  the  results  of  a  day. 

Thus  far,  things  have  gone  on  with  wonderful 
ability  and  moderation,  on  the  part  of  the  Provisional 
Government,  who  have  performed  an  amount  of  labor 
almost  miraculous ;    and  with  a  submission  on  the 


LETTER   CCV.  361 

part  of  the  people  equally  surprising.  The  National 
Convention  are  to  be  elected  on  the  9th  of  April,  by 
a  general  ballot,  and  are  to  assemble  on  the  20th. 
They  are  to  be  nine  hundred  in  number,  a  really 
terrific  number,  and  are  to  organize  society  anew  ; 
and  amidst  a  thousand  conflicting  interests,  and  in  a 
community  perhaps  the  most  excitable  in  the  world, 
are  to  (establish  a  government,  which  it  would  seem, 
in  the  general  apprehension,  is  to  create  a  political 
millenium  and  give  entire  liberty,  in  the  widest 
sense,  and  entire  equality,  in  a  sense  under  which 
society  cannot  exist,  and  plenty  of  bread,  and  little 
or  no  work,  and  high  wages  and  short  tasks  to  every 
man,  woman,  and  child,  in  the  community.  No 
thoughtful  or  experienced  mind  can  expect  such  im- 
possibilities ;  and  what  is  to  be  the  result  of  a  fail- 
ure, which  is  inevitable,  is  a  matter  for  which  every 
reflecting  person  here  feels  the  greatest  concern. 
These,  in  truth,  constitute  the  great  difliculties  of  the 
case.  There  are  great  evils  in  society,  which  might 
and  ought  to  be  corrected,  but  I  am  no  optimist,  and 
until  men  themselves  become  perfectly  wise,  and 
moral,  and  good, — when  we  should  want  no  gov- 
ernment, —  we  can  only  look  for  an  approach  (and 
that  very  distant)  to  a  perfect  condition  of  society. 
The  Provisional  Government,  who  really  have  no 
power,  excepting  what  they  assume  for  the  time, 
are  beset  with  every  species  of  application  to  arrange 
matters  according  to  the  will  and  interests  of  every 
particular  class.  The  ouvriers,  or  work-people,  in 
Paris,  are  numerous  beyond  what  I  could  have  con- 
ceived until  these  events  took  place.      Every  class 

VOL.    II.  16 


362        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

of  them,  even  down  to  the  drivers  and  conductors  of 
coaches  and  omnibusses,  have  applied  to  the  Provis- 
ional Government  to  have  their  hours  of  labor  and 
their  wages  regulated.  All  attempts  to  regulate 
wages  by  law,  excepting  where  the  government  is 
the  employer,  is  as  idle  as  to  attempt  to  regulate  the 
tides  or  the  winds.  The  government  have  very  fool- 
ishly and  insanely  (they  say  that  they  were  com- 
pelled to  throw  this  bone  to  a  growling  mastiff,) 
agreed  to  furnish  every  man  with  work,  and  to  estab- 
lish national  workshops  for  this  purpose.  What  an 
idle  attempt !  What  abuses  may  be  expected  on  the 
part  of  agents  !  And  the  machinery  to  conduct  these 
establishments  must  be  very  expensive  and  costly. 
What  reluctant  and  insufficient  work  on  the  part  of 
those  employed  !  who,  of  course,  if  they  work  by  the 
day,  will  feel  very  little  responsibility  to  the  public  ; 
for  what  an  interference  with  all  private  enterprise, 
and  what  a  disastrous  influence  must  it  exert  upon 
public  morals  !  Then  how  absurd  and  unjust  it  is  to 
make  these  distinctions  among  different  classes.  The 
workmen  here  think  no  man  a  laborer  who  does  not 
work  with  his  hands,  and  wear  a  blouse.  I  believe 
that  you  and  I  have  worked  as  hard  through  life,  as 
many  hours  in  the  twenty-four,  and  at  as  much  ex- 
pense of  health,  and  wear  and  tear  of  body  and  mind, 
as  any  man  who  has  carried  a  hod  or  used  a  saw. 
Then  again,  it  does  not  appear  that  a  single  thought 
is  spent  upon  a  body  of  laborers,  more  numerous  than 
the  men  in  blouses,  whose  tasks  are  longer,  whose 
work  is  in  truth  harder,  whose  wages  have  always 
been  less  proportioned  to  their  toil,  and  many  of 
whom,  I  believe  as  much  as  I  live,  against  their  own 


LETTER    CCV.  363 

feelings,  wishes,  and  convictions,  and  indeed  tinder 
the  deepest  feeling  of  self-abasement  and  disgust,  and 
at  a  sacrifice  which,  to  many  minds,  would  be  far 
greater  than  that  of  life,  abandon  themselves  to 
vicious  courses,  solely  that  they  may  sustain  life  : 
I  mean,  of  course,  the  seamstresses  and  working- 
women  in  a  city.  One  cannot  think  of  these  poor 
creatures  without  the  deepest  pity.  Now,  how  are 
all  these  clamorous  interests  to  be  provided  for,  every 
one  deeming  it  his  exclusive  right  to  be  provided  for 
first,  and  before  all  others. 

But  they  have  other  difficulties  to  meet  here,  which 
cannot  be  contemplated  without  the  most  anxious 
concern.  The  court  had  many  thousands  of  servants 
and  dependents,  who  are  now  utterly  thrown  out  of 
employ.  Paris  has  been  for  years  the  resort  of  in- 
numerable strangers,  solely  from  its  gayetyand  from 
the  accessibility  of  its  fashionable  society.  It  will 
take  a  long  time  to  make  it  again  a  place  of  attrac- 
tion to  a  mere  pleasure-seeking  class  of  people.  It 
is  said,  that  ordinarily  there  are  thirty  thousand  Eng- 
lishmen and  families  residing  in  Paris.  Suppose,  as 
is  probable,  that  twenty  thousand  of  these  will  with- 
draw, from  the  disturbed  state  of  Paris,  or  the  change 
in  the  state  of  society.  It  is  not  an  extravagant  cal- 
culation that  each  of  these  persons  expended  one 
thousand  dollars  a  year  in  Paris.  Twenty  millions 
of  dollars  then  are  at  once  taken  from  the  circulation. 
Even  half  of  that  would  affect,  to  a  considerable 
degree,  what  is  called  the  commerce  of  the  city. 
Excepting  the  shops  which  supply  articles  of  food 
and  clothing,  the  great  proportion  of  the  shops  in 


364         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

Paris  are  trading  in  articles  of  mere  luxury,  in  which 
they  abound  to  an  extraordinary  degree.  At  a  time 
"when  the  funds  are  falling,  and  when  the  stability  of 
the  government,  be  it  what  it  may,  will  remain  long 
doubtful,  who  will  think  of  indulgence  and  luxury  ? 
Then  the  shock  which  is  necessarily  given  to  com- 
mercial confidence  and  credit,  must,  in  such  a  state 
of  things,  be  tremendous.  Things  have  been  going 
on  here  as  in  England,  for  a  long  time,  in  a  way 
which  foreshadowed  sooner  or  later  such  a  commer- 
cial struggle  as  England  has  passed,  or  is  now  passing 
through.  These  events  bring  every  disease  to  a 
crisis  at  once.  You  are  much  more  able  to  judge  of 
such  results  and  their  consequences  than  myself. 
Under  all  these  circumstances,  however,  I  am  not 
without  hope.  It  is  not  the  end  of  the  world  ;  and 
in  a  violent  conflict  of  interests  and  opinions,  they 
must  adjust  themselves.  A  dismasted  ship  at  sea,  in 
a  storm,  must  submit  to  some  authority  or  perish. 
The  people  will  see  the  dangers  of  their  condition, 
and  perhaps  seasonably  find  the  necessity  of  order, 
forbearance,  and  submission.     Yours  truly. 


LETTER  CCVI. 

Paris,  20tli  March,  1848. 
Mt  Dear  M : 

.'  ■  1  DARE  say,  seeing  what  is  going  on  here,  you  feel 
some  anxiety  about  my  personal  safety ;  but  you  need 
have  none.      I  cannot  say  much  in   favor   of  my 


LETTER    CCVI.  365 

health,  for  I  have  seldom  had  more  pain  to  suffer 
than  during  the  last  fortnight.  But  this  comes,  with- 
out doubt,  in  some  measure  from  the  anxiety  inevita- 
ble in  this  perturbed  condition  of  affairs.  The  state 
of  the  times  gives  one  little  opportunity  to  think  of 
one's  self,  and  the  dreadful  amount  of  distress  and 
wretchedness  which  exist  about  one,  (and  you  know 
infinitely  more  exists  than  you  can  see,)  forbids  any 
one  who  has  bread  to  eat  dnd  a  comfortable  lodging 
at  night,  to  complain  of  any  thing. 

The  distress  here,  lies  principally  among  the  work- 
ing people.  A  vast  number  of  people  receive  such 
small  compensation,  even  in  good  times,  that  they 
barely  exist,  and  can  seldom  lay  up  any  thing  ;  when 
their  work  fails,  it  is  difficult  to  say  how  they  live, 
and  their  distress  must  be  extreme.  The  French  are 
extremely  frugal,  and  habitually  cheerful,  and  they 
will  therefore  be  gay  and  happy  under  privations 
which  would  make  an  Englishman  or  an  American 
perfectly  wretched  ;  but  it  is  evident  they  must  have 
something  to  live  upon,  and  when  even  that  little  is 
taken  away,  of  course  they  suffer  as  others.  I  know 
one  case  of  a  shop,  for  example,  which  was  one  of 
the  largest  in  the  city,  obliged  last  week  to  close  its 
doors  ;  and  in  this  single  shop,  six  hundred  people 
were  employed,  who  are  all  thrown  out  of  work.  It 
is  said,  a  few  days  ago,  that  a  notice,  which  I  read, 
being  given  for  the  meeting  of  servants  out  of  places, 
two  thousand  assembled.  Many  places  of  business 
are  closed ;  many  factories  are  stopped ;  and  hun- 
dreds and  hundreds  of  rich  people  have  discharged 
their  servants  and  left  the  town.     I  was  told  last 


366         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

week  of  a  gentleman,  whose  coach-horses  cost  him 
$1,800,  who  was  glad  to  sell  them  for  $400;  of 
another  gentleman,  whose  salary  in  the  employment 
of  the  Court  was  50,000  francs,  or  $10,000,  but  who 
now  has  not  one  sous,  and  whose  wife  sent  a  shawl, 
which  cost  her  1,400  francs,  to  a  friend  of  mine,  to 
sell  for  almost  any  thing  she  would  give  for  it.  The 
Secretary  of  the  Legation  told  me  last  evening  that 
it  was  reported  on  good  authority,  that  the  Roths- 
childs, by  this  revolution,  have  lost  — if  you  can 
conceive  of  it,  which  I  find  it  very  difficult  to  do  — 
$25,000,000,  or  £5,000,000  sterling.  Now  there  is 
no  difficulty  in  understanding  what  an  extensive  and 
disastrous  influence  such  events  must  have  through 
all  the  various  departments  in  society  of  business  or 
trade.  The  French  Court  alone  employed  innumer- 
able people.     Mr.  S told  me  that  at  the  great  ball 

at  the  Palace,  three  thousand  servants  were  employed 
in  one  way  or  another.  I  confess  they  seemed 
to  be  without  number,  but  I  could  hardly  have 
thought  there  were  so  many,  though  undoubtedly 
the  Court  itself  gave  employment  directly  to  a  great 
many,  many  thousands  of  people.  These,  of  course, 
are  all  dispersed.  Two-thirds  of  the  shops  in  Paris 
are  for  the  manufacture  and  sale  of  articles  of  mere 
luxury.  Their  sales  are  all  arrested,  for  nobody  now 
thinks  of  luxury,  excepting  to  avoid  every  vestige 
of  it. 

But  the  French  will  get  on.  Never  did  a  people 
behave  so  well  as  they  have  done  thus  far.  There 
is  no  end  to  the  sacrifices  which  are  made,  and  to 
the  charity  which  is  shown.  A  friend  who  visited 
me  yesterday,  who  has  been  a  nobleman,  but  now  is 


LETTER    CCVI.  367 

plain  Mr.,  told  me  that  half  his  fortune  was  gone, 
and  they  should  be  quite  contented  if  they  could 
keep  the  rest  ;  but  they  had  determined  not  to  dis- 
miss a  servant,  nor  in  any  way  to  cut  down  their 
establishment,  as  they  should  deem  it  very  inhuman 
to  dismiss  their  servants  in  such  a  time  as  this.  The 
great  want  now  felt,  is  of  course,  for  money,  and 
especially,  specie.  A  gentleman  yesterday,  sent  all 
his  plate,  which  was  a  large  quantity,  to  the  mint,  to 
be  melted  and  coined,  and  then  to  be  given  to  the 
government  ;  but  refused  to  take  any  receipt  for  it, 
or  even  so  much  as  to  give  his  name.  This  was  very 
noble,  and  is  not,  I  believe,  a  solitary  instance  of  the 
like  magnanimity  !  Many  persons,  who  on  the  night 
of  the  attack  upon  the  people,  broke  into  shops  where 
guns  and  swords  were  sold,  in  order  to  arm  them- 
selves, and  who,  of  course,  could  never  be  again 
recognized,  have  honestly  returned  the  arms  which 
they  took.  In  one  case,  where  four  or  five  men  who 
had  been  fighting  and  were  exhausted,  went  into  a 
house  and  compelled  the  master  of  the  house  to  give 
them  some  refreshment,  (it  was  a  hotel  or  restaur^ 
ant,)  have  since  left  the  full  value  of  what  they  took, 
with  the  printer  of  "  the  National,"  who  has  adver- 
tised for  the  hotel  keeper  to  come  for  it. 

The  streets  now  are  quiet  enough,  but  the  people, 
who  were,  before  this,  as  gay  and  buoyant  as  pos- 
sible, especially  the  women,  now  look  very  '•  triste  " 
and  pale,  evincing  beyond  all  question,  the  extreme 
anxiety  which  preys  upon  them.  Feel  perfectly 
secure  about  me.  I  am  in  no  danger.  I  leave  here 
the  first  of  May,  for  England,  and  for  home  as  soon 
after  that  as  I  can.     Yours  ever. 


368        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

LETTER  CCVII. 

Pang,  20th  March,  1848, 
Mt  Dear  Sie  : 

You  will  be  glad  to  hear  from  an  eye-witness,  how 
affairs  go  on  in  the  great  political  earthquake,  which 
seems  now  likely  to  shake  all  Europe  to  its  centre. 
In  the  first  place,  let  me  caution  you  against  receiv- 
ing, but  with  the  greatest  allowance,  the  accounts  in 
the  English  papers  of  what  is  going  on  in  Paris  or  in 
France.  The  English  are  full  of  hatred  for  the 
French;  they  are  under  the  influence  of  the  strong- 
est prejudices,  and  with  these  prejudices,  which  seem 
almost  a  part  of  tlieir  education,  they  often  misunder- 
stand facts,  though  they  may  not  voluntarily  mis- 
state them.  They  have  long  been  severe  upon  the 
Americans,  and  now  this  severity,  which,  perhaps, 
for  their  health,  must  have  vent,  is  turned  upon  the 
French.  I  say  this,  because  I  read  the  English 
papers  daily,  and  being  here,  I  detect  at  once  many 
erroneous  statements.  They  talk  of  the  bankruptcy 
of  the  National  Bank  of  France  in  such  terms,  that 
you  would  suppose  they  never  heard  of  their  own 
suspension  more  than  twenty  years.*  But  I  leave 
this  subject. 

*  The  following  is  from  the  Times  of  September,  1847,  with  regard  to 
American  repudiation : 

"  We  will  admit,  for  a  moment,  what  our  Boston  correspondent  asserts, 
that  four-fifths  of  the  entire  population  either  never  contracted  a  debt, 
or  never  committed  a  default.  Let  all  praise  be  given  to  them  for  jjom- 
rascality.  They  are  entitled  just  to  so  much  encomium,  and  no  more,  as 
we  bestow  upon  a  man  who  passes  through  life  without  forging  a  check 
or  embezzling  his  employer's  money." 


LETTER    CCVII.  369 

The  French  have  immense  difficulties  to  struggle 
with,  but  there  is  reason  to  hope,  though  not  unmin- 
gled  with  distrust,  that  they  will  surmount  them,  and 

The  Morning  Post  of  the  same  month,  has  the  following  : 

"  In  brutalit  /of  deportment,  the  genuine  Yankee  scarcely  exceeds  the 
genuine  Parisian  of  the  middle  classes." 

The  i^tandard  shows  the  comfortable  opinion  which  the  English  enter- 
tain of  themselves,  in  comparison  with  their  neighbors  : 

"  First,  French  politeness  has  been  for  centuries  a  proverb  in  Europe ; 
and  we  go  from  a  country  in  which  the  middle  and  lower  classes  are,  in 
all  essential  things,  really  the  least  selfish  and  most  courteous  in  the 
world,  to  another,  in  which,  probably,  we  find  less  real  courtesy  than  we 
find  at  home,  and  less,  even  of  the  exterior  of  courtesy,  than  our  preju- 
dices had  prepared  us  to  expect." 

We  quote  from  "  The  Sun,"  in  a  similar  strain : 

'  The  English  nation  has  deservedly  gained  the  highest  character  for 
humanity  and  philanthropy.  No  people  since  the  creation  of  the  world 
have  made  such  sacrifices  in  the  cause  of  charity.  Witness  the  twenty 
millioTis  of  pounds  sterling  freely  and  readily  paid  to  extinguish  slavery 
in  our  dominions,  and  the  annual  expenditure,  not  only  of  money,  but  of 
the  far  more  precious  lives  of  our  gallant  sailors,  in  order  to  prevent  the 
horrible  trade  from  being  carried  on,  and  the  appalling  atrocities  that 
were  perpetrated  by  the  slave-dealers.  Witness  the  ten  millions  sterling 
so  willingly  advanced  for  the  relief  of  our  Irish  brethren,  (half,  by  way 
of  loan,  and  the  residue,  as  a  free  gift,)  during  the  past  year,  and  the 
voluntary  contributions,  exceeding  half  a  million  more,  for  the  same 
benevolent  purpose." 

We  think  these  efforts  on  the  part  of  England,  most  magnanimous  and 
magnificent,  and  we  honor  England  with  our  whole  heart,  for  these  great 
movements  in  philanthropy  ;  but  under  all  circumstances,  we  tnist  it  will 
not  be  deemed  offensive  to  inquire,  whether  of  these  thirty  millions,  one 
farthing  has  ever  been  paid ;  whether  the  whole  has  not  been  in  addition 
to  their  public  debt,  which  is  never  intended  or  expected  to  be  paid  .'  and 
whether  any  thing  more  has  been  done  than  to  saddle  themselves  and 
their  posterity,  and  the  Irish  nation  also,  to  whom  this  donation  was 
made,  forever,  with  the  payment  of  these  great  sums,  and  with  a  stock 
which  is  always  much  below  a  par  value,  and  the  interest  proportionately 
low ! 

In  the  time  of  the  Irish  famine,  the  Americans  sent  to  Ireland  in  pro- 
visions and  clothing,  more  than  a  million  of  dollars,  actually  collected 
and  disbursed.  Is  it  not  high  time  that  we  abandon  these  miserable  jeer- 
ings  and  reproaches,  and  do  all  we  can  to  cultivate  that  true  and  generous 
friendship  which  ought  to  subsist  among  nations  allied  by  blood,  by  lan- 
guage, by  commerce,  by  free  institutions,  and  by  innumerable  mutual 
im4  eyer-increasing  interests  ? 


SfO        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

settle  down  under  a  free  and  elective  government. 
I  think  it  would  be  impossible  to  find  an  example  of 
more  disinterestedness  and    magnanimity,   or,  upon 
the  whole,  considering  the  circumstances  of  extreme 
difficulty  in  which  they  have  been  placed,  more  dis- 
cretion and  sagacity,  than  have  thus  far  been  exhib- 
ited  by  the  Provisional    Government.     They  have 
made  some  great  mistakes,  but  the  wonder  is  that 
they  have  not  made  more  and  greater.     Last  week, 
a  body  of  the   national  guards,  to  the  amount  of 
twenty  thousand,  went  to  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  to  de- 
mand revocation  of  an  order  which  abolished  certain 
distinctions  and  privileges  which  certain  of  the  na- 
tional guards  had  long  enjoyed,  and  which  placed  all 
the  citizens  who  enrolled  themselves  upon  an  equal- 
ity.    The  government  had  the  wisdom  and  energy 
to  stand  by  their  determination.     It  was   said   that 
the  national  guards  threatened  to  come  again,  with 
their  arms,  and  compel  submission.     But  what  would 
have  been  the  condition  of  the  government,  if  they 
were  to    be  compelled    to  change    and  veer  at  the 
pleasure  of  any  party.     Lamartine    gave    them    to 
know,  that  the  government  had  adopted  this  meas- 
ure iti  conformity  with  the  principles  of  equal  rights, 
which  they  had  avowed,  and  after  mature   delibera- 
tion ;  and  that  he  would  sooner  die  upon  the  scaff'old, 
than  he  would  violate  his  own  judgment,  or  betray 
his  principles.     The  government  at  once  published  a 
proclamation  to  this  effect.    The  legitimists  saw  these 
dissentions  with  peculiar  pleasure,  and  hoisted  the 
white  flag  in  several  parts  of  the  city,  in  favor  of 
Henry  V.,  the  Duke  of  Bordeaux.     This  moved  the 


LETTER    CCVII.  371 

whole  people  ;  and  the  next  day  there  was  a  pro- 
cession of  five  and  six  deep,  and  sometimes  ten  deep, 
embodying  an  immense  multitude  of  the  workmen 
of  the  city  and  the  people,  certainly  more  than  one 
hundred  thousand,  many  say  over  two  hundred  thou- 
sand, who  went  in  a  body,  without  arms,  and  assured 
the  Provisional  Government  that  they  would  support 
them  in  their  decision,  and  that  they  would  have 
nothing  but  a  republic.  This  has  been  the  greatest 
popular  demonstration  yet  made,  and  is  deemed  of 
the  highest  importance.  It  has  done  immense  ser- 
vice in  supporting  the  government,  and  thus  estab- 
lishing confidence.  Their  conduct  was  orderly  ; 
there  was  a  general  illumination  in  the  evening,  but 
there  was  no  drunkenness  nor  riot.  The  national 
guards  have  been  taught  their  place,  and  the  legiti- 
mists are  wholly  discomfited. 

The  great  difficulties  are  with  the  work  people. 
All  the  different  classes  have  been  either  in  a  body 
or  by  deputation,  to  ask  the  government  to  reduce 
the  hours  of  work  from  twelve  to  ten,  and  to  fix  the 
rate  of  wages.  Even  large  bodies  of  the  women 
have  been,  to  require  that  work  done  in  the  prisons 
and  in  the  national  workshops,  should  not  be  suffered 
to  come  in  competition  with  work  in  private  estab- 
lishments. What  an  absurdity  for  the  government 
to  undertake  to  regulate  by  law  wages,  or  hours,  ex- 
cepting in  their  own  establishments,  and  to  protect 
young  children  against  abuses  of  power.  The  gov- 
ernment have  endeavored  to  get  rid  of  these  questions 
as  beyond  their  province,  but  they  have  been  sorely 
pressed.     The  evil  must  relieve  itself.     An  exten- 


372  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

sive  shoe-manufacturer,  employing  a  great  many 
hands,  was  required  by  them  to  shorten  the  day's 
work  and  increase  their  wages ;  he  said  that  his 
profits  did  not  allow  him  to  do  it,  and  therefore  he 
should  dismiss  them  all,  and  go  with  them  the  next 
day,  to  see  if  he  and  they  could  find  work  at  the 
rate  which  they  demanded.  They  had  the  good 
sense  to  understand  the  case,  and  immediately  re- 
turned to  their  work. 

The  government  promised  to  give  employment  and 
increased  wages  to  all  workmen  without  work ;  to 
those  whom  they  employed,  they  would  give  two  and 
a  half  francs  per  day  ;  and  to  those  whom  they  could 
not  employ,  they  would  allow  one  and  a  half  francs 
per  day  until  they  could  find  work.  This  has  filled 
Pzuis  with  the  lazy  and  idle  from  the  country.  They 
have  raised  the  wages  of  the  soldiers  from  eight  sous 
to  thirty  sous  per  day,  and  you  may  judge  from  the 
vast  numbers  enlisted,  the  amount  of  expense  daily 
incurred  ;  and  all  this,  with  a  treasury  left  under  the 
greatest  embarrassments  by  the  late  expensive  gov- 
ernment. Necessity,  which  almost  every  one  sees 
and  feels,  will  compel  them  to  get  along  until  the 
meeting  of  the  National  Convention,  in  one  month 
from  this ;  as  Arago,  one  of  the  Provisional  Govern- 
ment, and  one  of  the  most  eminent  philosophers  in 
the  world,  said  to  the  national  guard,  "  If  you  compel 
us  to  resign,  what  is  there  behind  us  to  look  to  ? " 
No  human  being  can  conjecture  the  results  from  a 
National  Convention  of  nine  hundred  persons  ;  but  I 
believe  they  are  capable  of  a  free  government,  and  I 
believe  also,  the  leading  men  are,  at  present,  deter- 


LETTER   CCVIII.  373 

mined  to  make  a  fair  experiment.  The  great  object 
now  is  to  preserve  the  public  peace  and  to  secure 
property.  The  reports  of  the  people  having  cried  in 
the  procession  the  other  day,  "  Away  with  the  aris- 
tocracy to  the  Lantern  !  "  which  appear  in  the  Eng- 
lish papers,  are,  I  believe,  wholly  false.  I  stood 
among  the  crowd,  and  by  the  procession,  more  than 
an  hour,  and  I  heard  nothing  but  Vive  la  republique, 
nor  can  I  learn  that  any  other  person  heard  any 
other  cry,  excepting  Vive  Lamartine. 

I  am  told  commercial  difficulties  here  are  univer- 
sal and  terrible ;  but  these  are  not  all  to  be  ascribed 
to  the  revolution,  but  to  the  recklessness  of  expendi- 
ture and  speculation,  which  seems  to  have  pervaded 
the  commercial  world.     Yours  truly. 


LETTER  CCVm. 

TO    MRS.    B . 

Paris,  29th  March,  1848.. 
My  Deab  Friend: 

You  will  hardly  expect  another  letter  from  me  so 

soon ;  but  this  is  principally  to  apologize  for  what  I 

am  afraid  you  thought  a  very  cross  and  belligerent 

one  last  week.     Recollect,  however,  you  threw  down 

the  glove,  though  I  am  willing  to  acknowledge  I 

partly  provoked  you  to  it.     The  best  apology  I  can 

offer  is,  that  I  was  on  that  day  cross  with  everybody, 

and  much  more  so  with  myself  than  with  any  other 


374         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

person  ;  for  I  had  been  suffering  a  good  deal  of  pain 
for  three  weeks,  and  then   more   than  ever ;  and,  in 
spite  of  all    my  prejudices,  and  really  having  little 
confidence  in  physicians  or  medicine,  was  obliged  to 
haul  down  my  flag,  and  send  for  one.     The   night 
after  I  wrote  to  you,  if  I  could  but  have  caught  sight, 
for  one  half  hour,  of  some  bright  and  kind  eyes  the 
other  side  of  the  channel,  and  the  other  side  of  the 
great  water,  I  believe  I  should  have  hailed  my  dis- 
charge as  a  kind  and  welcome   release.     I  have  a 
first-rate  physician,  and  who  is  equally  a  gentleman, 
and  he  pronounces  my  case   one   of  aggravated  tic 
douloureux,  or  neuralgia  —  a  term  which,  perhaps,  I 
ought  not  to  mention  in  your  presence.     I  am  anx- 
iously waiting  his  visit,  and  the  first  question  I  shall 
put   to  him  is,  Can  I  go  home?  —  for  everything 
admonishes  me  that  I  must  set  my  face  homeward 
with  all  convenient  despatch.     My  intention   is  to 
leave  Paris,  if  my  health  admits,  next  week,  for  Lon- 
don, where  I  propose  to  remain,  according  to  circum- 
stances, a  short  time,  and  then  proceed  to  the  United 
States.     I  cannot  reconcile  it  to  my  sense  of  com- 
mon kindness,  to  put  myself  upon    your  hospitality, 
most  gratefully  as  it  is  appreciated. 

It  will  be  a  blessed  hour  when  I  once  more  set  my 
feet  upon  the  English  soil :  first,  because  it  will  be 
nearer  home  ;  and  second,  as  the  hymn  says,  — 

'•  There  my  friends  and  brethren  dwell," 

and  so  it  will  be  more  like  home.  A  French  lodging- 
house  is  well  enough  when' you  are  in  health,  but  it 
is  no  place  for  a  sick  person.  I  do  not  know  how  I 
should  have  found  it  in  a  private  family,  where  I 


LETTER  ccnii.  375 

really  believe  there  would  be  no  want  of  kindness  ; 
but  to  give  you  some  idea  of  the  mode  in  which  we 
live  here,  though  I  have  been  in  this  house  five 
months,  and  there  have  been  fifty  persons  lodging  in 
it,  I  don't  know  one  of  them  even  by  sight,  and  am 
ignorant  even  of  the  names  of  the  persons  who  keep 
the  house. 

Paris  is  at  present  in  a  dreadful  condition,  and  has 
lost  most  of  its  charms  as  a  residence.  I  do  not  think 
that  life  or  property  is  at  all  insecure  ;  but  the  un- 
certainty of  the  future  hangs  upon  every  reflecting 
mind  like  a  dark  thunder-cloud  in  the  sky.  They 
have  certainly  performed  wonders,  and  behaved  as 
well  as  possible  so  far ;  but  the  measures  undertaken 
by  the  government  of  giving  every  man  work,  at 
two  francs  per  day,  and,  if  they  had  not  work  to 
give  him,  and  he  had  no  work  to  live  upon,  allowing 
him,  at  first,  a  franc  and  a  half,  and  now  a  franc  per 
day  in  money,  have  produced  a  flood  of  idleness,  and 
brought  in  shoals  of  lazy,  idle  fellows  from  the  coun- 
try, who  spend  this  money  chiefly  in  drink,  and  get  up 
eternal  processions  of  thousands  and  thousands  in 
number,  patrolling  the  streets,  and  singing  the  Mar- 
seillais  hymn.  I  believe  the  French  people  are  capable 
of  appreciating  a  liberal  and  just  government ;  but 
they  require  at  once  a  fixed  and  a  strong  government. 

You  seem  not  to  have  extraordinary  quietness  in 
your  neighborhood.  Such  a  cargo  of  thunder  and 
lightning  as  came  in  the  papers  yesterday  from  Ire- 
land, we  have  not  seen  for  a  long  time.  I  never 
knew  any  thing  more  atrocious  than  the  language  of 
some  of  the  Irish  orators ;  yet  I  am  fully  of  opinion 


376        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AXD  MANNERS. 

thst  the  government  have  committed  an  error  in 
prc^ec  iting  them.  The  dog  which  barks  the  loudest 
doef-  not  always  bite  hardest;  but  if  you  defy  him, 
ana  engage  in  a  personal  contest,  the  results  in  one 
sense  are  not  doubtful,  because  they  are  sure  to  be 
disagreeable  and  painful.  I  never  knew  a  man, 
woman,  or  child,  to  engage  in  any  kind  of  quarrel, 
who  was  not,  in  a  degree,  the  worse  for  it,  even 
though  he  should  gain  his  point.  I  confess,  how- 
ever, it  is  often  almost  inevitable, — and  who  is  wise 
at  all  times  ? 

I  hope  my  amends  will  be  kindly  accepted.  Three 
days  ago  I  had  to  employ  a  friend  to  write  a  short 
note  for  me  at  my  dictation,  —  so  you  see  that  I  must 
be  better.  Indeed,  I  am  always  the  better  for  think- 
ing of  you  and  yours.     Yours  truly. 


LETTER  CCIX. 

Paris,  31st  March,  1848. 
My  Deak  M : 

I  RECEIVED  your  kind  letter  of  the  12th  inst.    This 

will  be  handed  you  by  H C K ,  the  son 

of  our  old  friends,  who  a  few  days  since  took  me 
quite  by  surprise.  Had  I  seen  the  apparition  of  his 
father,  I  should  scarcely  have  been  more  astonished. 
He  came  out  for  his  health  ;  first,  to  Palermo,  where 
he  staid  a  month  ;  thence  to  Naples  and  Rome,  where 
he  staid  three  months ;  and  now  he  sails  to-morrow 
in  a  ship  for  the  United  States.     You  will  be  aston- 


LETTER    CCIX.  377 

ished  to  learn,  that,  with  one  leg,  and  on  crutches^ 
he  made  his  way  to  the  top  of  Vesuvius  ;  most  men 
have  to  do  it  on  all  fours. 

Paris  was  never  more  interesting  than  at  this  mo- 
ment ;  but  it  is  most  painfully  so.  It  has  lost  all  its 
charms  as  a  residence  ;  and  the  uncertainty  of  the 
future,  and  the  state  of  feverish  excitement  in  which 
everybody  is,  and  the  intense  suffering,  which  you 
know  must  prevade  many  classes  of  the  people,  fill 
the  mind  with  the  most  anxious  apprehensions,  and 
wring  the  heart  with  agony.  There  is  an  infinite 
amount  of  charity  in  the  community  ;  I  do  believe 
there  was  never  a  country  where  there  was  more  ; 
but  the  very  sources  of  charity  are  cut  off  or  dried 
up;  and  many,  who  were  the  bountiful  bestowers, 
are  now  themselves  the  recipients.  Everybody  cuts 
down  his  establishment.  Vast  numbers  of  the  rich 
have  sold  their  horses  and  carriages,  and  discharged 
their  servants,  and  left  the  city.  But  these  are 
thousands,  tens  of  thousands,  I  may  say  hundreds  of 
thousands,  whose  wages  amounted  only  to  about 
twenty  cents  a  day,  upon  which  they  could  scarcely 
subsist,  who  are  now  thrown  entirely  out  of  work, 
and  must  be  pining  away  in  slow  and  solitary  misery. 
Several  thousand  women  —  wash-women,  work- 
women, needle-women,  and  others — went  a  few 
days  ago  to  the  government,  to  beg  the  allowance  of 
ten  sous  or  cents  per  day,  for  they  and  their  children 
were  absolutely  dying  by  starvation. 

The  whole  of  Europe  is  now  in  a  condition  of  the 
greatest  and  most  terrible  excitement ;  and  it  seems 
to  me  impossible  that  England  should  ride  quietly  at 


378         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

anchor,  in  such  a  storm,  and  with  such  a  heavy  sea. 
I  shall  write  you  immediately  from  London,  which 
may  indeed  reach  you  before  this.  Yours  affection- 
ately. 


LETTER  CCX. 

Paris,  5th  April,  1848. 
My  Deak  M : 

This  is  probably  the  last  letter  you  will  receive 

from  me  from  this  place  ;  and,  if  I  had  written  it  last 

week,  I  should  have  been  half  inclined  to  have  said, 

the  last  you  will  receive   from   me   from  any  place  ; 

for  I  was  then  wretchedly  ill,  and  am  still  very  feeble, 

and   with  almost  as  little  strength  of  mind  as  of 

body.     A  fortnight  since  matters  came  to  a  crisis  ; 

and  such  was  my  suffering  through  the  night,  that  I 

could ^nly  think  of  you  all  at  home,  and  pray  that 

God  would  release  me  as  soon  as  possible.     It  is  not, 

however,    as    we    desire,  and   perhaps   foolishly    or 

wickedly  desire,  since  I  have  entire  confidence  in 

the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  his  providence,  and  feel 

that   the  first  of  all  duties  is  to  submit  unreservedly 

and  without  complaint  to  his  will,  whatever  that  will 

may  be.     In  a  French  lodging-house,  by  night,  a 

man  is  as  much  alone  as  he  would  be  in  the  midst  of 

a  forest ;  but  when  it  was  full  day,  I  made  out  to 

send  for  a  physician.     Heaven,  who  has  always  been 

most   kind  to  me,  directed  me  to  one  of  the  most 

intelligent,  skilful,   and  gentlemanly  men   whom  I 

have  known,  Dr.  Olliffe,  who  pronounced  my  case 


LETTER    CCX.  379 

one  of  most  violent  neuralgia,  and  at  once  prescribed 
for  me.  He  particularly  recommended  the  vapor 
bath,  which  was  of  immense  relief  to  me.  It  was 
such  a  luxury  as  I  never  enjoyed  before.  You  un- 
dress yourself  entirely,  go  into  a  room  of  comfortable 
size,  and  laying  down  on  a  clean  sheet  on  a  table,  by 
turning  a  cock,  you  fill  the  room  at  once  with  hot 
steam,  until  you  can  scarcely  respire,  and  the  sweat 
pours  from  every  part  of  you,  as  though  your  bones 
as  well  as  your  flesh  were  actually  becoming  liquid. 
In  half  an  hour,  your  attendant,  who  visits  you 
several  times  during  the  operation,  to  see  if  you  sur- 
vive it,  stops  off  the  stream,  wipes  you  perfectly  dry, 
wraps  every  part  of  you  in  cloths  almost  burning  hot, 
and  then  puts  you  into  a  nice  clean  bed,  well  tucked 
up,  and  leaves  you  to  an  hour's  most  quiet  and  deli- 
cious sleep.  To  me,  who  had  not  had  a  quiet  hour's 
sleep  for  a  fortnight,  it  seemed  a  perfect  Elysium, 
and  was  of  essential  service.  It  was  necessary  I 
should  repeat  the  baths  ;  and  I  found  myself  soon  to 
a  great  degree  relieved  from  pain,  but  laboring  under 
an  extreme  debility,  so  that  it  was  almost  impossible 
to  dress  and  undress  myself  The  doctor  continued 
his  services,  and,  to  the  most  exemplary  attention, 
he  added  the  greatest  kindness  ,*  for,  on  my  asking 
for  his  bill,  his  reply  was,  that  he  considered  all  pro- 
fessional men  as  his  brethren,  and  should  accept 
nothing.  Who  will  say  that  all  Christian  kindness 
has  departed  from  the  earth  ? 

On  Friday  of  this  week  I  shall  leave  for  London, 
which  I  hope  to  reach  on  Saturday,  and  shall  write 
to  you  by  the  first  boat  after  that.      My  excellent 


380  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

friend,  Mrs.  B ,  in  London,  to  whom  I  wrote  last 

week  to  inquire  if  my  old  lodgings  were  vacant, 
writes  me  thus  :  "  The  first  place  you  come  to  on 
your  return  must  be  here  :  I  demand  it  as  a  right  ; 
and  then  we  will  see  what  kindness  and  care  will  do 
towards  your  recovery."  They  are  as  respectable 
people  as  live  ;  and  there  is  no  limit  to  the  kindness 
which  they  always  express  towards  me.  She  adds  : 
''  I  do  hope  you  will  honor  our  humble  abode  for 
some  time ;  and  then  you  can  turn  yourself  round, 
as  the  saying  is,  and  arrange  your  plans  for  the  future. 
T  hope  you  have  faith  in  my  sincerity ;  if  so,  what  I 
have  said  will  be  sufficient  ;  if  not,  all  the  pressing 
in  the  world  will  be  of  no  avail,  —  so  I  shall  say  no 
more."  After  that,  I  do  not  think  I  can  further  de- 
cline this  kindness,  which  I  have  all  along  done 
before ;  and  I  shall,  therefore,  go  directly  to  their 
house,  for  at  least  a  week,  when  I  will  inform  you  of 
my  plans. 

I  cannot  give  you  any  Parisian  news.  The  city  has 
become  excessively  disagreeable,  from  the  constant 
agitation  prevailing  by  day  and  night,  and  the  utter 
uncertainty  of  what  the  future  is  to  be.  The  bank- 
ruptcies are  almost  without  a  parallel ;  business  is 
entirely  at  a  stand.  The  rich  seem  even  more  dis- 
tressed than  the  poor.  Many  of  the  shops  are  closed. 
Vast  amounts  of  silver  and  jewelry  are  buried  in  the 
ground.  As  yet,  bread  is  cheap  and  plenty.  But, 
before  the  new  government  can  be  organized,  there  is 
the  greatest  fear  that  the  public  peace  may  be  broken, 
and  the  present  government  overturned.  What 
would  come  then,  Heaven  only  knows. 


LETTER    CCXI.  -381 

A  great  many  Americans  have  determined  to  wait 
and  see  it  through.  If  I  were  well,  I  should  have 
the  same  curiosity ;  but  I  am  now  too  old  to  think  of 
any  thing  but  the  end  of  my  journey.  Love  to  all. 
Yours  truly. 


LETTER  CCXL 

TO    W.    S.,    ESQ,. 

London,  11th  April,  1848. 
Mt  Beak  Sib.: 

I  PROMISED  you  should  hear  from  me  to-day ;  but 
my  health  is  so  wretched  that  I  must  claim  your  in- 
dulgence to  be  satisfied  with  such  a  letter  as  I  can, 
not  such  an  one  as  I  would  write. 

On  reaching  Dover,  which  I  did  on  Saturday  morn- 
ing, at  six  o'clock,  we  found  a  large  body  of  troops, 
say  eleven  hundred,  gathering  at  the  railroad  station, 
to  take  their  passage  for  London ;  and  on  the  road 
we  heard  of  nothing  but  the  great  demonstration  ex- 
pected on  Monday.  On  my  arrival  in  London,  I 
found  a  condition  of  universal  alarm  ;  and  every- 
where the  most  active  preparations  going  on  for  the 
protection  of  the  public  peace  ;  and  at  church  we  had 
a  long  discourse  about  passive  obedience  and  non- 
resistance  ;  urging,  under  all  circumstances,  to  keep 
the  peace,  to  do  nothing  to  help  themselves,  but  "  to 
wait  the  movements  of  divine  Providence,"  under 
which,  right,  and  truth,  and  justice,  were  certain  to 
prevail ;  a  matter  for  which,  so  far  as  I  can  learn,  the 


382  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

world  has  been  waiting  for  about  five  thousand  years. 
Monday  morning  came,  and  terror  was  everywhere 
depicted.  Two  special  constables,  in  the  family 
where  I  lodge,  were  called  upon  to  present  them- 
selves for  orders  at  the  police  office,  where  several 
rounds  of  beef  and  plenty  of  porter  were  provided, 
to  keep  their  courage  at  the  "  sticking  point."  About 
nine  o'clock,  the  shops  being  everywhere  shut  as  on 
Sunday,  and  few  carriages  seen  in  the  streets,  two 
processions,  comprising  in  all  perhaps  three  thousand 
persons,  came  down  the  main  street,  Holborn,  with 
various  banners;  and  two  large  carriages  gaily  decked 
out  with  flags,  the  one  bearing  the  aristocracy  of  the 
Chartists,  and  the  other  the  monster  petition,  report- 
ed to  be  signed  by  upwards  of  five  and  a  half  millions 
of  people,  demanding  the  provisions  of  the  people's 
charter ;  every  one  of  which  has  been  peaceably  and 
fully  enjoyed  by  us  ever  since  the  foundation  of  our 
government,  but  in  which  the  conservative  English 
see  nothing  but  universal  misrule  and  destruction. 
The  flags  and  wagons  were  covered  with  mottoes, 
such  as,  "  Better  to  die  freemen  than  to  live  slaves ;  " 
"  It  is  glorious  to  die  for  liberty ;  "  and  various  other 
brave  sayings,  which  are  always  spoken  with  great 
emphasis  over  the  dinner-table  and  the  juice  of  the 
grape  ;  but  which  are  likely  to  be  uttered  in  a  lower 
tone  before  a  bayonet  newly  polished,  or  a  cannon 
charged  with  grape  shot ;  which  usually  have  the 
effect  to  relax  the  muscles  of  the  throat,  and  some- 
what affect  the  organs  of  utterance.  The  people 
in  the  procession  seemed,  in  general,  well-dressed 
young  men,  with  French  silk  hats  on  their  heads, 


LETTER    CCXI.  383 

but  no  French  heads  under  them,  and  who  certainly- 
exhibited  as  little  pluck,  in  action  or  looks,  as  men 
under  such  circumstances  could ;  wholly  uncon- 
cerned, as  on  their  way  to  a  holiday  frolic  rather  than 
to  a  serious  assertion  of  invaded  rights,  or  a  defiance 
of  what  they  deemed  oppression  and  tyranny.  The 
government  had  denounced  the  meeting,  in  a  procla- 
mation, under  an  old  law  of  Charles  II.,  which  for- 
bids any  assemblage  of  more  than  twenty  people,  or 
any  going  to  Parliament  with  a  petition,  accompa- 
nied by  more  than  ten  persons.  On  their  arrival  at 
Kennington  Common,  the  police  announced  to  Mr. 
Fergus  O'Connor,  the  Chartist  leader,  that  they  were 
at  full  liberty  to  carry  their  petition  with  ten  persons, 
in  a  common  carriage ;  but  if  the  procession,  in  a 
whole  body  attempted  to  pass  either  of  the  bridges, 
they  would  be  fired  upon  by  artillery  already  planted 
there  to  repel  them.  Mr.  Fergus  O'Connor  thinking 
all  at  once  of  widows  and  orphans,  and  that  there 
was  a  considerable  difference  between  iron  grapes  and 
Fontainbleau  or  Malaga  grapes,  advised  to  the  im- 
mediate and  quiet  dispersion  of  the  assembly,  which 
wholesome  advice  was  very  graciously  received  ;  and 
excepting  a  few  unimportant  squabbles  with  the 
police,  no  disturbance  took  place  ;  and,  but  for  the 
terrible  fright  the  Londoners  had,  which  made  them 
exquisitely  ridiculous,  the  whole  affair  has  gone  off 
as  quietly  as  a  summer  shower  sometimes  clears  oft', 
and  the  conservative  English  of  the  middle  classes 
have  now  nothing  to  do  but  to  hug  what  they  call 
their  chains  more  closely,  and  compensate  themselves 
with  the  complacent  consciousness  of  their  own  pru- 


384  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

dence  and  self-possession ;  when  for  the  two  hun- 
dred thousand  batons  with  which  they  expected  to 
knock  out  the  Chartists'  brains,  if  the  poor  things 
had  any,  they  found  no  other  use  than  to  make  a 
great  flourish,  to  the  infinite  amusement  and  derision 
of  all  the  vagabond  boys  and  girls  which  throng  the 
streets. 

The  Bank,  Somerset  House,  and  other  public 
buildings,  were  all  garrisoned  with  troops,  and  armed 
with  chevaux-de-frise.  Early  in  the  morning,  the 
Queen  and  Prince  took  their  departure  for  the  Isle  of 
Wight ;  reports  were  spread  that  three  hundred  thou- 
sand Chartists  would  be  assembled  on  Kennington 
Common,  and  no  one  thought  of  any  thing  but  put- 
ting the  whole  government  to  flight,  and  abandoning 
the  city  to  massacre  and  plunder.  You  have  heard 
of  "  great  cry  and  little  wool,"  and  whatever  may  be 
said  of  British  courage  in  the  fight,  I  shall  not  say 
much  of  British  self-possession  before  the  fight.  The 
government  found  their  interests  essentially  advanced 
in  raising  the  alarm,  and  have  gained  immensely  in 
the  result.  The  Chartists  at  no  time  amounted  to 
thirty  thousand,  and  the  petition  with  five  millions  of 
names  had  not  probably  one  million  of  those  which 
were  genuine.  Thus  ended  this  great  affair  —  Par- 
turiunt  monies. 

London  is  now  as  quiet  as  the  country.  You  can 
come  at  any  time  with  safety.  I  left  Paris  on  Friday 
morning,  at  half-past  eight,  reached  Boulogne  at  six  ; 
slept  on  board  the  mail-boat,  which  got  under  way 
at  half-past  three ;  suflered  the  usual  discomforts 
of  the  interior,  when   all    the   machinery   becomes 


LETTER    CCXII.  385 

deranged ;  reached  Dover  perfectly  exhausted,  and 
London  at  half-past  twelve,  with  an  entire  incapacity 
of  proceeding  farther.  I  have  been  a  great  sufferer 
since  my  arrival,  but  extreme  kindness  of  as  kind 
people  as  the  world  knows,  has  done  something  for 
my  spirits,  which  have  been  most  of  the  time  at  zero, 
and  a  good  night's  rest  the  last  night,  a  perfect  rarity 
in  the  history  of  my  last  month,  has  done  something 
for  my  body,  so  that  this  morning  I  rose  and  report- 
ed progress.     Yours  faithfully. 


LETTER  CCXII. 

London,  13th  April,  184S. 
My  Dear  M : 

I  LEFT  Paris  last  Friday  morning,  and  accomplished 
the  journey  with  extreme  difficulty  and  exhaustion. 
I  reached  London  on  Saturday  noon,  and  found  my 
friends,  the  B s,  ready  to  give  me  a  hearty  wel- 
come.     Their    kindness  cannot   be  exceeded,  and 

every  wish  of  mine  is  anticipated.     Mrs.   B a 

good  deal  resembles  A ,  and  is  everywhere,  even 

beyond  her  means,  doing  good.  She  came  into  my 
chamber  on  Monday  morning,  and  said  to  me,  ''Are 
you  thinking  of  your  old  lodgings  ?  for  I  have  some 
suspicion  that  you  are."  "  Yes,"  I  replied,  "I  am; 
for  I  was  treatedjvery  kindly  there."  "Now,"  said 
she,  "  give  me  your  word  that  you  will  not  go  from 
here  while  you  stay  in  London,  or  until  we  tell  you 
that  your  stay  is  inconvenient."     I  told  her  that   I 

VOL.    II.  17 


386        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

accepted  her  kindness  most  gratefully,  but  I  could 
not  engage  to  do  that  which  she  asked  of  me.  At 
present,  however,  I  shall  remain  their  guest ;  and  she 
has  this  moment  opened  my  door,  to  desire  me  to  tell 
you  that  she  will  take  every  care  of  me.  How  much 
reason  have  I  to  thank  God  for  the  friends  whom  I 
have  had,  and  the  kindness  which  I  have  received. 
I  have  done  what  I  could  for  others;  but  I  have 
never  done  a  kindness,  which  has  not,  in  some  form 
or  another,  been  repaid  to  me  seventy-fold. 

I  remain,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  very  ill.  My  physician 
charged  me  to  take  the  air  every  day,  which  1  do, 
but  I  am  a  great  sufferer.  My  strong  hope  is,  that  a 
change  of  air  and  scene  will,  as  the  doctor  predicted, 
do  much  for  me.  Give  yourself  no  concern  about 
my  wanting  any  aid,  for  every  thing  will  be  done 
for  me  that  the  most  assiduous  kindness  and  affec- 
tion can  do  ;  and  let  us  be  willing  to  leave  the  event 
to  that  merciful  Providence,  the  thoughts  of  whose 
constant  care  and  love  and  beneficence  hourly  over- 
whelm me  beyond  the  power  of  utterance. 

You  will  see,  from  the  papers,  that  London  has 
been  threatened  with  serious  disorders.  These  have 
been  greatly  exaggerated  in  the  newspapers.  I  saw 
two  of  the  large  processions  go  by  my  windows,  but 
they  were  entirely  unarmed,  and  showed  no  dispo- 
sition to  create  disturbance.  The  government  were, 
however,  excessively  alarmed,  and  so  were  the  peo- 
ple, and  they  mutually  alarmed  each  other.  The 
Q,ueen  and  royal  family  were  sent  off  to  the  Isle  of 
Wight.  All  this  seemed  to  me  perfectly  unnecessary, 
and  much  more  likely  to  provoke  than  to  quiet  a  rev- 


LETTER    CCXII.  387 

olution.  The  English  and  French  are  entirely 
different  from  each  other.  The  English  are  a  staid, 
calculating,  reflecting  people,  and  do  not  act  without 
deliberation.  The  French  are  a  people  of  impulse, 
and  act  without  deliberation,  either  before  or  after. 
The  French  are  perfectly  reckless  of  life,  and  march 
up  to  the  cannon's  mouth  without  flinching.  The 
English  take  care  of  themselves ;  they  are  not  want- 
ing in  bravery,  but  "  they  want  to  live  to  fight 
another  day."  The  English,  likewise,  are  strongly 
attached  to  their  institutions ;  they  are  conservative 
in  the  highest  degree,  and  will  wear  a  shoe  that 
pinches  severely,  —  not  without  complainipg,  but 
without  a  thought  of  throwing  the  shoe  away,  lest 
they  should  be  obliged  to  go  barefoot.  The  French 
kick  it  off  at  once,  without  a  thought  when,  or  how, 
or  if  ever,  its  place  is  to  be  supplied.  The  English 
will  continue  to  stagger  along,  under  burdens  heavier, 
as  they  themselves  say,  than  ever  pressed  any  nation 
before,  and  with  abuses  of  the  most  enormous  and 
acknowledged  character.  How  France  is  to  settle 
down  again  into  any  regular  or  orderly  government, 
no  sagacity  can  foresee.  The  best  may  be  hoped 
for  ;  the  worst  is  to  be  feared. 

I  am  sorry  to  send  you  a  letter,  which  I  know  will 
give  you  some  pain  and  anxiety ;  but  do  not  yield  a 
moment  to  these  feelings.  Think  how  much  blessed 
I  am,  in  finding,  in  a  strange  land,  friends  so  kind  ; 
and  pray  God,  with  me,  that  I  may  show  myself  de- 
serving of  such  kindness.     Yours  most  affectionately. 


388         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 


LETTER  CCXIII. 

London,  April  18th,  1848. 
Mt  Dear  M : 

You  feel,  I  know,  great  anxiety  about  my  health. 
If  kindness  and  attention  could  make  me  well,  I 
should  rejoice  in  the  firmest  health  ;  for  no  eflbrt  is 
spared  on  the  part  of  the  friends  where  I  am  for  my 
benefit.  I  am  freer  from  pain  than  I  was,  but  my 
strenglji  is  gone,  and  I  can  bear  scarcely  the  least 
exertion  without  being  exhausted.  I  consider  my- 
self, however,  convalescent. 

You  will  see  by  the  papers,  that  Europe  is  every- 
where in  commotion.  The  prospects  of  France  are 
much  overclouded,  and  they  must  pass  through  many 
difficulties,  before  they  can  have  any  thing  like  sta- 
bility and  quiet.  The  fire  is  kindling  in  various 
parts  of  Europe,  and  a  general  conflagration  seems 
all  but  inevitable.  The  little  I  saw  in  Paris,  in  the 
days  of  the  revolution,  have  led  me  to  appreciate  the 
horrors  of  war  much  more  sensibly  than  I  could  ever 
have  done  before.  England  will,  I  think,  at  present 
remain  quiet,  but  she  can  only  be  kept  so  by  the  arm 
of  power.  If  it  were  not  for  the  army  in  England, 
her  throne  would  not  be  secure  for  a  day.  No  one 
can  conjecture  what  is  to  become  of  Ireland.  The 
poverty  and  wretchedness  and  distress  there,  are  ex- 
treme, and  yet  the  wisest  persons  cannot,  in  the 
present  condition  of  her  institutions,  devise  any  im- 


LETTER    CCXIV.  389 

mediate  remedy.  No  country  seems  so  happy  and 
prosperous  as  the  United  States;  and  her  blessings 
and  the  happiness  of  her  institutions,  are,  at  present, 
much  more  highly  appreciated  here,  than  they  ever 
were  before. 

I  have  little  to  add.     A  sick  chamber  does  not 
present  any  great  variety.     Yours  truly. 


LETTER  CCXIV. 

TO    W.    S.,    ES^. 

London,  19th  April,  1848. 
Mt  Dear  Sir: 

I  THANK  you  for  two  friendly  and  agreeable  letters. 
I  have  but  one  abatement  to  the  pleasure  which  the 
receipt  of  them  gave  me,  and  that  is,  that  the  post- 
script of  the  first,  which,  as  you  know,  in  a  lady's 
letter,  is  always  supposed  to  contain  the  very  cream 
of  the  jest,  is,  as  near  as  I  can  conjecture,  written 
either  in  Arabic  or  Syriac ;  and,  as  I  am  not  acquainted 
with  those  languages,  it  remains  a  sealed  book.     Mr. 

H r  called  on  me  this  morning,  and  I  desired  him 

to  try  his  hand  at  it ;  but,  notwithstanding  his 
boast  that  he  could  read  any  hand-writing,  he  was 
quickly  foundered.  He  did  not  like  to  be  beaten, 
and  so  he  undertook,  by  picking  out  a  word  here 
and  there,  to  state  what  he  supposed  you  meant  to 
say ;  but,  as  the  sentiments  which  he  put  into  your 
mouth,  were  obscure  and  without  point,  which,  of 


390  EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

course,  was  the  very  reverse  of  your  ordinary  con- 
versation or  writing,  I  put  no  reliance  whatever  upon 
his  commentary,  and  thus  it  remains,  to  be  translated 
when  the  inscriptions  upon  the  Egyptian  obelisk  or 
the  Dighton  rock  find  an  interpreter.  Your  letter 
was  a  consolation  to  me,  under  my  own  numerous 
faults,  for  I  am  so  often  rapped  over  the  knuckles  for 
illegible  writing,  that  it  was  a  relief  to  me  to  find 
that,  though  I  might  be  the  chief,  I  was  not  the 
only  sinner. 

Your  letter  of  yesterday  displays  all  your  usual 
characteristics  ;  it  is  sensible,  exact,  to  the  point,  and 
quite  transparent ;  and  though  I  can  repay  only  in  a 
depreciated  currency,  you  Parisians  must  not,  at  pre- 
sent, insist  upon  an  invariable  standard  of  value,  but 
take  that  which  "  will  pass,"  for  the  day. 

First,  I  congratulate  you  upon  the  probable  suc- 
cess of  your  excellent  project,  in  respect  to  the 
extension  of  the  Louvre,  and  the  removal  of  the 
National  Library.  I  learn  from  the  journals,  that  the 
Provisional  Government  have  already  decided  upon 
it,  I  have  no  doubt,  upon  your  suggestion,  and  very 
greatly  to  the  public  advantage.  You  ought  to  have 
the  credit  of  it,  but  you  will,  I  know,  be  better  satis- 
fied with  its  accomplishment. 

Hi  I  see  you  speak  doubtingly  but  not  despairingly  of 
Prance.  This  is  my  feeling.  I  read  to-day  the 
memorial  of  the  Provisional  Government  to  the  peo- 
ple, vindicating  the  right  of  Paris  to  take  the  lead, 
and,  in  fact,  to  control  the  Departments.  It  seems 
unnecessary  in  this  formal  manner  to  put  forth  these 
demands.     It  would  be  matter  of  course,  and  would, 


LETTER    CCXIV.  391 

of  necessity,  have  been  yielded  silently ;  and  when 
a  claim  to  this  controlling  influence  is  almost  arro- 
gantly made,  opposition  is  snre  to  be  roused.  The 
divisions  in  the  Provisional  Government  and  the 
demonstrations  of  the  communists  are  bad  omens.  It 
is  a  pity  that  these  people,  with  Louis  Blanc  at  their 
head,  could  not  find  some  island,  where  they  could 
make  an  uncontrolled  experiment  of  their  principles, 
I  would  advise  England  to  give  them  a  quitclaim  to 
Ireland,  for  the  trial  of  their  beautiful  theory ;  and 
further,  that  she  should  render  them  every  assistance 
to  make  the  experiment  complete.  The  vessel,  I 
think,  would  be  wrecked  without  leaving  the  port, 
and  the  crew  would  soon  proceed  to  exterminate 
each  other.  I  was  glad  to  hear  of  the  demonstration 
of  the  national  guards  in  favor  of  the  government. 
But,  amidst  all  these  capricious  movements,  one  looks 
anxiously  for  some  firmer  basis  of  reliance.  I  can 
only  hope  that  it  may  soon  be  found. 

The  movements  of  England  are  retrograde ;  she  is 
fast  becoming  the  most  despotic  government  in  Eu- 
rope. New  definitions  of  treason  and  sedition,  an 
extended  system  of  espionage,  both  in  ordinary  busi- 
ness and  the  privacy  of  domestic  life,  a  gagging  law 
for  all  who  desire  to  speak  their  minds,  the  opening 
of  private  correspondence  at  the  post-office,  the  vast 
increase  of  a  disguised  police,  and  the  alien  bill, 
which  is  wholly  inconsistent  with  England's  boasted 
hospitality  and  courage,  place  England  at  the  side  of 
Russia,  and  they  are  going  hand  in  hand  against  all 
reform.  The  middle  classes  in  England,  who  took 
up  arms  against  the  humbler  classes,  (who,  much  as 


392         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

we  may  disapprove  the  manner  in  which  they  seek 
it,  have  certainly  in  view  altogether,  and  only,  the 
benefit  of  the  middle  classes,  the  mitigation  of  na- 
tioned  burdens,  and  the  general  cause  of  liberty,) 
have  now,  with  their  hands  tied  behind  them,  thrown 
themselves  into  the  power  of  the  government,  and 
all  hopes  of  reform  are  extinguished,  for  at  least  the 
next  quarter  of  a  century.  I  think,  my  dear  sir,  day 
by  day,  with  a  gratitude  I  have  not  words  to  express, 
more  and  more,  of  the  bright  history  of  my  own 
country,  whose  clear-sightedness  and  firm  decision 
in  the  beginriing,  whose  fidelity  to  liberal  principles, 
under  various  trials,  and  whose  noble  and  lofty  posi- 
tion at  this  moment  among  the  nations  of  the  earth 
—  I  say  as  noble  and  as  lofty  as  a  nation  ever  occu- 
pied—  must  command  the  admiration  of  every  lib- 
eral mind.     Yours  truly. 


LETTER  CCXV. 

TO    W S ,    ESQ. 

London,  25th  April,  1848. 
Mt  Deab  Sir: 

We  have  not  much  London  news.  Parliament  is 
suspended  until  the  4th  of  May.  The  sedition  bill 
has  passed ;  the  alien  bill  soon  will  be  enacted. 
These  measures  show  extreme  solicitude  on  the  part 
of  the  government;  and  they  can  have  no  other 
effect  than  to  exasperate  a  large  portion  of  the  peo- 


LETTER    CCXV.  393 

pie.  1  believe,  however,  they  will  for  the  present 
take  it  out  in  grumbling  and  complaining.  Yester- 
day there  was  to  have  been  a  large  meeting,  sum- 
moned by  Mr.'*  Cochrane,  of  paupers  and  beggars,  in 
Trafalgar  Square,  to  carry  a  protest  to  the  Home 
Secretary,  against  some  of  the  provisions  of  the  Poor 
Law,  on  the  subject  of  settlement.  The  Police  pub- 
lished a  proclamation  against  such  an  assemblage  or 
procession;  and  though  some  few  came  together, 
they  were  soon  dispersed.  I  admire  the  calm  philos- 
ophy of  the  English.  They  admit  their  burdens,  and 
the  actual  increase  of  the  taxation,  and  the  infinite 
number  of  abuses,  of  which  they  loudly  say  they  are 
the  victims ;  but  they  say  —  we  shall  get  what  we 
want  171  a  few  years.  In  my  opinion  there  is  not  the 
smallest  hope  for  it.  I  would  not,  however,  disturb 
their  self-complacency.  Mind,  /  do  not  say  that 
any  reform  is  necessary,  leaving  every  people  to 
judge  for  themselves.  Issachar  rests  quietly  under 
his  burdens.  There  are  meetings  in  the  country 
which  make  a  great  show  upon  paper,  but  they  ai^e 
mere  flashes  in  the  pan.  The  government  are  im- 
mensely strong.  The  Continental  revolutions  have 
so  frightened  the  higher  classes,  and  the  middle 
classes  are  so  accustomed  to  he  frightened  or  any 
thing  else,  when  the  higher  classes  are  frightened  or 
any  thing  else,  that  even  useful  reforms  are  likely  to 
be  rejected.  They  are  afraid  even  to  remove  a  loose 
stone  or  a  decayed  timber,  lest  the  whole  house 
should  come  tumbling  about  their  ears. 

If  your  business  does  not  require  your  earlier  return, 
you  would  probably  find  the  last  of  May  and  the  first 

YQL.    11.  17* 


394  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

part  of  June  extremely  pleasant  in  England,  though- 
it  has  rained  I  believe  every  day,  except  one,  since  I 
came  here. 

I  have  just  been  reading,  in  the  Boston  Advertiser, 
a  letter  from  Mr.  George  Sumner,  giving  an  account 
of  the  French  Revolution  and  the  causes  which  led 
to  it.  It  is  very  well  written.  I  dare  say  the  Amer- 
ican public  will  be  inundated  with  accounts,  and  I 
shall  be  looking  for  your  comprehensive  and  exact 
detail. 

Nothing  can  be  more  difficult,  however,  than  to 
convey  any  thing  like  a  just  picture  of  the  events  of 
these  memorable  days  in  Paris,  with  all  their  various 
associations  and  circumstances.  I  may  say  I  was  in 
the  midst  of  it,  yet  it  seems  to  me  like  a  dream  of  the 
night ;  and  changes  of  scene  occurred  in  such  rapid 
succession,  that  it  is  very  difficult  to  distinguish  real- 
ities from  illusions. 

The  excitement  produced  in  the  United  States  by 
the  intelligence,  appears  to  have  been  electrical.  I 
have  been  reading  to-day,  Mr.  Webster's  speech  in  the 
Senate,  on  the  subject  of  Mexico,  especially  the  acqui- 
sition of  territory.  The  disadvantages  under  which 
the  erection  of  new  States  places  the  old  States,  by 
the  rule  of  representation  in  the  Senate,  are  very 
forcibly  presented ;  but  it  must,  I  think,  have  been 
badly  reported,  for  it  is  not  in  his  usual  direct  and 
terse  style. 

I  was  extremely  interested  in  your  account  of  the 
magnificent  fete  on  occasion  of  presenting  the  national 
flags.  Certainly,  one  great  secret,  if  it  is  to  be  called 
a  secret,  of  the  French  doing  every  thing  of  this  kind 
so  well,  must  be  their  sobriety.     Yours  truly. 


LETTER   CCXVI.  395 


LETTER  CCXVI. 

Dalwich,  12th  May,  1848. 
Mt  Bear  M : 

Your  last  letter  went  to  Paris  and  was  returned  to 
me  at  London.  My  health,  which  at  present  with 
me  is  the  first  object,  is  improved.  If  the  kindness 
of  friends  could  make  me  well,  my  health  would  be 
perfect.     I  came  out  here  by  the  invitation  of  my 

good  friends,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  C ,  to  spend  a  week, 

and  they  have  insisted  upon  my  staying  a  fortnight. 
It  is  impossible  to  find  more  kind  people.  This 
place  is  about  six  miles  from  London,  and,  I  believe, 
is  not  surpassed  for  beauty  in  all  England.  Almost 
the  whole  village  is  owned  by  a  charitable  institution, 
called  a  college,  designed  to  support  six  old  men  and 
six  old  women  and  twelve  children.  By  the  charter, 
so  absurd  is  it,  they  cannot  enlarge  the  institution  or 
extend  its  advantages ;  their  funds,  are  more  than 
two  hundred  thousand  dollars  a  year,  and  they 
scarcely  know  what  to  do  with  this,  so  that  they 
refuse  to  have  their  land,  which  consists  of  two 
thousand  acres,  built  upon,  beyond  a  certain  extent, 
and  therefore  the  fields  are  quite  open ;  the  place 
abounds  with  trees  and  groves,  and  though  so  near 
the  great  metropolis  of  the  world,  there  are  many 
walks  almost  as  retired  and  secluded  as  you  would 
find  in  Deerfield. 

Mr.  C 's  house  is  hired  from  the  college,  on  a 

lease  of  sixty-one  years,  with  leave  to  renew  it  at 


396         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

the  expiration  of  that  term.  It  is  an  elegant  residence, 
with  extensive  grounds,  gardens,  greenhouses,  and 
every  convenience.  They  have  given  me  frequent 
drives  in  the  neighborhood,  and  the  fresh  air  and  the 
quiet  have  done  much  for  me.  I  shall  go  into  the 
city  to-morrow,  but  I  cannot  yet  announce  my  final 
determination.     Yours  truly. 


LETTER  CCXVII. 

TO    W.    S.,    ES^. 

London,  20th  May,  1848. 
My  Dear  Sir: 

I  THANK  you  for  the  paper  you  sent  me.  I  scarcely 
know  what  to  say  or  think  of  the  movements  in 
France.  The  moderate  party,  if  there  is  any  such 
party,  must  have  a  set  of  desperate  villains  to  deal 
with.  I  am  truly  rejoiced  that  they  succeeded  in 
putting  these  wretches  down,  but  I  am  afraid  they 
have  only  scotched,  not  killed  the  serpent.  But 
what  shall  they  do  with  them  ?  Death  for  political 
offences  is  abolished,  by  decree  of  the  Provisional 
Government ;  but  if  it  were  not,  the  first  shedding  of 
blood  by  a  deliberate  act,  would  be  a  terrible  omen. 
What  is  to  be  the  end  of  matters  ?  Have  they  any 
man  who  can  control  them  ?  Is  Lamartine  capable 
of  ruling  the  storm  ?  To  talk  of  a  man's  being 
free,  with  a  bayonet  at  his  breast  all  the  time,  or  to 
talk  of  liberty,  which  can  only  be  maintained  by  two 
or   three  hundred    thousand   troops,  seems   absurd, 


LETTER    CCXVII.  397 

and  a  good  deal  worse  than  absurd.  It  seems  to 
me  that  there  never  was  a  people,  who  made  so 
little  calculation  for  the  future.  With  noble  traits  of 
character,  they  seem  utterly  destitute  of  what  may 
be  properly  called  discretion.     Nous  verrons. 

The  course  of  events  here,  tends  to  consolidation, 
and  to  render  the  people  more  conservative.  Many 
well-advised  men  say,  however,  that  they  must  and 
will  have  reform.  A  people  more  idolatrous  of  their 
own  institutions,  and  more  idolatrous  of  their  own 
country,  it  would,  I  believe,  be  very  difficult  to  find. 
I  am  aware,  however,  that  I  must  be  cautious  what 

I  say,  where  Mrs.  S might  overhear,  after  her 

presentation  at  St.  James's,  in  a  dress,  which,  I  learn, 
eclipsed  all  others,  and  was  so  charmingly  described 
in  the  Morning  Post. 

I  dare  say  you  are  possessed  of  later  American 
news  than  I  can  give  you.  They  still  ride  quietly 
at  anchor,  I  believe,  and  I  think  have  reason  daily 
and  hourly  to  thank  Heaven  that  the  Atlantic  rolls 
between  them  and  the  old  world.  We  had  rumors 
yesterday  that  a  republic  had  been  declared  at  Rome. 
From  what  I  saw  at  Rome,  few  events  would  sur- 
prise me  less.  But  they  cannot  have  a  republic,  and 
a  political  church  at  the  same  time  ;  and  as  to  getting 
rid  of  their  church,  or  making  any  great  alteration  in 
it,  it  seems  almost  as  hopeless,  as  to  turn  St.  Peter's 
upside  down,  and  make  it  stand  upon  the  dome.  I 
believe  the  papal  power  is,  and  must  continue  to  be, 
in  point  of  endurance,  at  least,  the  strongest  power 
on  earth.     Most  truly  yours. 


398         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 


LETTER  CCXVIII. 

London,  26th  May,  1848, 
Mt  Deak  M : 

I  HAVE  to  thank  you  for  your  affectionate  letter.  I 
am  happy  to  say  that  I  am  much  better,  though  my 
strength  is  far  from  restored.  I  think  I  derived  the 
greatest  benefit  from  my  visit  of  a  fortnight  at  Mr. 
Courage's,  at  Duhvich,  whence  my  last  letter  to  you 
was  dated.  Their  residence  is  delightful ;  a  house 
combining  every  elegance  and  luxury ;  a  delightful 
country  ;  gardens,  green-houses,  green  fields,  quiet 
walks,  beautiful  rides  and  drives  ;  and  above  all,  kind 
hearts  and  a  happy  family,  trying  to  make  every  one 
around  them  happy.  After  that,  I  made  a  short  visit 
to  Mr.  Drummond,  my  fellow-traveller  on  the  Conti- 
nent, a  most  respectable  clergyman  at  Acton  —  a 
beautiful  residence,  where  I  was  obliged  to  decline 
their  urgent  request  to  make  a  long  visit.  I  have 
received  likewise,  an  invitation  to  go  to  dueenwood, 
in  the  country,  to  make  a  visit  of  a  month,  and  two 
letters  from  Lord  Hatherton  to  visit  them,  and  two 
invitations  from  the  Hardwickes  to  visit  their  marine 
villa  at  Sidney  Lodge.  I  have  acceded  to  none  of 
these,  because  my  plans  are  not  arranged. 

The  B s  would  hear  of  nothing  after  my  return 

from  Dulwich  and  Acton,  but  my  coming  back  there  ; 
so  I  am  still  their  guest,  and  nothing  can  exceed  their 
kindness  and  the  pleasure  which  they  seem  to  take 


LETTER   CCXIX.  399 

in  my  convalescence,  I  hope  Heaven  will  make  me 
as  grateful  as  I  ought  to  be,  and  I  cannot  be  too 
much  so.  Yesterday,  Lady  Hardwicke  took  me 
with  her  into  the  country,  to  a  little  '•'■fete  champ  etre,''^ 
or  what  we  should  call  a  pic-nic.  It  was  a  very 
elegant  private  entertainment,  given  in  the  beautiful 
grounds  and  garden  of  Mr.  Liddell.  The  day  \vas 
as  fine  as  possible  ;  the  grounds  laid  out  with  ex- 
qnisite  taste  ;  the  ladies  in  the  most  elegant  costumes  ; 
and  with  the  young,  and  gay,  and  fair,  lords  and 
ladies  by  scores,  music,  dancing,  playing,  and  tables 
loaded  with  luxuries,  it  was  quite  charming.  I  had 
a  ticket  sent  to  me  to  go  to  the  fete  at  Chiswick,  the 
great  centre  of  style  and  fashion,  but,  as  the  ground 
was  damp,  I  was  afraid  to  go.  The  Pendarveses 
have  been  twice  to  see  me,  and  are  as  kind  as  usual. 
I  found  on  my  table  last  week  an  elegant  and  most 
serviceable    present,  with   a    kind    note    from  Mrs. 

C ,    hoping    it  would   be    of  use    to    me,    and 

reminded  me  that  I  must  come  there  again  soon. 
How  am  I  to  acknowledge  such  constant  kindness  ? 
Yours  truly. 


LETTER  CCXIX. 

^  London,  29th  June,  1848. 

Wt  Dear  A : 

I  DO  not  know  that  I  owe  you  a  letter,  but  I  owe 

you  a  great  deal  of  love,  and  therefore  give  you  a 

few  lines.     You  will  see  by  the  French    accounts 

what  reason  I  have    to  congratulate  myself  that  I 


400        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

quitted  Paris  in  due  season.  I  can  hardly  imagine  a 
condition  of  things  more  frightful  and  miserable  than 
exists,  at  present,  in  that  beautiful  city ;  so  recently 
beautiful,  gay,  brilliant,  and  full  of  every  thing  to  en- 
chant and  delight,  and  now,  it  would  seem,  changed 
into  the  abode  of  fiends.  It  is  to  the  everlasting 
credit  of  the  French  people,  however,  that  so  large 
a  proportion  has  been  found  on  the  side  of  order, 
and  have  displayed  a  courage  and  disinterestedness 
above  all  praise. 

I  do  not  apprehend  any  immediate  outbreak  here. 
The  government  is  very  strong,  and  the  events  in 
France,  have  given  them  many  fearful  admonitions 
of  the  dangers  and  horrors  of  anarchy.  But,  that 
great  changes  must  sooner  or  later  take  place,  seems 
inevitable ;  and  if  an  English  mob  should  once  get 
under  way,  I  think  there  would  be  as  much  to  appre- 
hend from  them,  as  from  a  French  mob. 

England  finds  an  immense  security  in  her  insulcu: 
condition,  which  prevents,  in  a  great  measure,  any 
accession  of  turbulent  spirits  from  abroad,  and  gives 
her  at  the  same  time,  a  much  greater  control  of  those 
at  home.  The  fiercest  animals  are  often  subdued  by 
the  mere  fact  of  confinement  within  the  bars  of  their 
cage.  A  foreign  language,  likewise,  presents  an 
almost  impassable  barrier  to  a  free  intercourse.  Had 
Ireland  been  a  continental  province,  instead  of  an 
island,  it  would  have  been  impossible  to  have  re- 
tained her  in  subjection ;  now  surrounded  as  she  is 
constantly  by  a  powerful  fleet,  to  prevent  accession 
from  abroad,  and  to  meet  disturbance  at  any  desirable 
point,  and  with  a  considerable  army  on  the  island, 


LETTER    CCXIX.  401 

not  of  Irishmen,  but  Englishmen,  who  have  no  sym- 
pathy with  the  Irish,  her  turbulent  spirits  are  kept 
down,  and  the  hands  of  the  refractory  become  pow- 
erless. 

Go  to  the  Court  End  of  London,  and  nothing  can 
exceed  the  splendor  and  gorgeousness  of  the  display 
which  you  meet  continually ;  but  go  into  the  low 
places  of  the  town,  and  it  js  impossible  to  describe 
the  wretchedness,  dirt,  and  squalidness  of  thousands 
of  famished  and  half-starved,  drunken,  dissolute  vag- 
abonds, who  are  there  to  be  seen.  Certainly,  if  this 
is  all  that  the  highest  degree  of  refinement  and  civil- 
ization can  boast  of,  it  is  but  a  melancholy  result. 

I  was  presented  with  a  ticket  a  few  nights  since, 
for  the  opera,  to  see  and  hear  Jenny  Lind.  Parts  of 
her  singing,  or  rather  the  singing  of  certain  parts,  I 
have  heard  better  executed  by  others ;  but,  as  a  whole, 
I  have  never  heard  her  equal,  or  scarcely  any  one 
comparable  to  her.  1  have  never  known  such  extra- 
ordinary compass  of  voice,  such  facility  of  execution, 
such  flexibility,  such  beauty  and  melody  of  articula- 
tion and  accent.  It  is  something  of  a  contrast,  how- 
ever, to  find  people  paying  two  guineas,  that  is,  ten, 
and  sometimes  fifteen,  and  sometimes  twenty  dollars, 
for  a  single  seat,  and  then  come  out  and  be  surrounded 
with  poor  wretches,  begging  a  few  pence  to  save 
them  from  lodging  in  the  gutter  or  on  the  side  walks 
all  night.* 

♦  I  quote  here,  for  the  sake  of  amusing  the  reader,  the  opinion  of  two 
respectable  Hindoos,  Parsees,  who  resided  some  time  in  London,  and 
published  their  observations  concerning  the  ballets  at  this  theatre.  "  It 
was  the  last  evening  that  Taglioni,  a  favorite  danseuse,  was  to  appear, 
and  we  were  surprised  to  learn  that  for  every  night  of  her  performance, 


402  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

Mr.  Emerson  has  been  lecturing  here  with  great 
success.  He  at  first  had  an  audience  of  about  one 
hundred,  at  a  guinea  each,  of  the  elite  or  the  dilet- 
tanti, at  a  literary  institution  ;  since  that,  he  has  had 
an  audience  of  one  thousand,  at  Exeter  Hall,  at  one 
shilling,  three,  and  five  shillings  each,  for  the  benefit 
of  a  young  men's  society.  I  am  glad  of  his  success, 
for  he  is  very  deserving,  and  bears  his  honors  with 
good  sense  and  good  manners.  His  lectures  seem  to 
me  very  much  like  a  kaleidoscope,  full  of  every  thing 
beautiful,  and  a  constant  succession  of  most  brilliant 
changes,  but  vanishing  suddenly  before  the  eye,  and 
leaving  it  difiicult  to  recall  the  combination  of  dis- 
tinct images,  or  to  retain  any  strong  impression  of 
some  single  and  great  point.  They  somewhat  resem- 
ble Champagne  wine  —  sparkling,  delicious,  exhilar- 
ating, but  evanescent,  and,  as  far  as  practical  results 
are  concerned,  insubstantial.     Adieu. 


LETTER  CCXX. 


TO    MR.    R W- 


London,  loth  July,  1848. 
My  Dear  Friend: 

I  DO  not  owe  you  a  letter,  but  I  should  be  as  un- 
willing in  this  matter  to   keep   accounts  with   my 

she  had  been  paid  one  hundred  and  fifty  guineas.  It  does  appear  so 
absurd,  that  a  dancing  woman  should  take  out  of  English  pockets  every 
night,  for  an  hour's  jumping,  more  money  than  would  keep  six  Spital- 
field  weavers  of  silk,  with  their  wires  and  families,  for  a  whole  year." 


LETTER  CCXX.  403 

friends,  as  I  should  be  sorry  to  have  them  keep  such 
accounts  with  me.     Your  statement  of  the  course 

pursued  by has  greatly  interested  and  impressed 

me.  I  will  not  be  content  to  judge  of  men  of  learn- 
ing, intellect,  and  character,  occupying  high  stations 
in  society,  and  claiming  homage  from  the  literary 
world,  by  the  common  low  standard  of  morals,  which 
may  satisfy  a  mere  trading  community.  In  the  ad- 
vancement of  the  intellectual  and  moral  character,  a 
generous  mind  will  rise  superior  to  all  the  meanness 
of  avarice,  and  all  the  baseness  of  cunning.  He  will 
feel  that  his  is  the  pursuit  only  of  noble  and  lofty 
spirits  ;  he  will  rejoice  in  every  effort  which  advances 
the  common  cause  of  human  improvement ;  in  every 
contribution  which  assists  to  advance  this  great  work, 
he  will  dismiss  from  his  heart,  as  utterly  unworthy 
of  such  a  cause,  all  mean  jealousy  and  envy  ;  he  will 
rejoice  in  the  good  accomplished,  without  any  selfish 
considerations  as  to  the  persons  by  whose  hands  it  is 
promoted ;  and  if  he  seeks  the  noble  honor  of  being 
foremost  in  the  work  of  conquest,  it  will  not  be  by 
trampling  upon  those  before  him,  but  by  cheering  on 
those  who  are  struggling  at  his  side  ;  by  calling 
upon  those  who  lag,  to  press  forward ;  by  stimulat- 
ing all  by  a  generous  example  of  disinterested  devo- 
tion to  the  common  object.  Should  he  succeed  in 
being  the  first  to  enter  the  entrenched  fortress,  it  may 
not  be  only  to  cause  regret  and  hatred,  that  he  has 
effected  it  to  the  manifest  discomfiture  and  injury  of 
those  who  fought  with  him  ;  but  so  honorably  and 
so  nobly,  that  all  who  were  engaged  with  him, 
even    his   most    ambitious   rivals,    shall   cheerfully 


404        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

award  to  him  the  palm  of  victory,  the  well  earned 
and  never  fading  laurels  of  true  merit.  Yours 
truly. 


LETTER  CCXXI. 

TO    W.     S ,    ESQ.. 

London,  28th  July,  1848. 
My  Deak  Sik: 

I  CONGRATULATE  you  ou  your  safe  and  happy  arri- 
val in  Boston.  The  steamboats  now  make  such  fre- 
quent passages  without  any  accident,  that  we  almost 
forget  that  the  cracking  of  a  plank,  or  the  loosening 
of  a  bolt,  or  a  sheet  of  floating  ice,  or  a  stroke  of 
lightning,  or  a  sudden  blast  of  wind,  or  ten  thousand 
other  occurrences  more  trivial,  might  have  terminated 
your  voyage  abruptly,  even  in  the  middle  of  the 
ocean,  or  in  sight  of  port,  whence  so  many  beings, 
full  of  light  and  hope  and  expectation,  have  caught 
a  glimpse  of  the  promised  land,  and  then  have  closed 
their  eyes  forever. 

Of  political  news,  the  papers  will  give  you  aa 
ample  supply.  I  cannot  write  it,  for  in  truth  there  is 
daily  so  much  that  I  connot  even  find  time  read 
it.  Yesterday  we  had  reports  of  an  outbreak  and 
collision  at  Clonmel,  in  Ireland ;  but  it  proved  an 
Irish  fiction.  It  affected  the  funds  here  considerably  ; 
and  the  ministry  were  in  such  alarm,  that  the  pre- 
mier could  scarcely  stay  to  finish  the  baptism  of  his 
child.     He  came  flying  into  town  from  the  church 


LETTER    CCXXI.  405 

door,  summoned  the  Iron  Duke,  called  a  cabinet 
council,  sent  for  rockets  and  blunderbusses  from 
Woolwich,  and  put  us  all  in  a  terrible  fright ;  but  it 
was  without  doubt  a  stock-jobbing  hoax,  and  so  it 
has  ended.  An  outbreak  in  Ireland,  however,  would 
not  be  surprising.  Want  not  unfrequently  drives 
men  to  insanity,  and  the  very  hopelessness  of  despair 
will  often  impel  men  to  violence.  But  Ireland  is 
bound  hand  and  foot ;  her  efforts  for  relief  will  avail 
nothing ;  and  all  that  remains  for  her  is,  like  a  stub- 
born and  vexed  child,  to  cry  herself  to  sleep.  The 
suspension  of  the  habeais  corpus  is  ^  great  move ; 
and  that,  with  the  sedition  law,  heis  created  with 
many,  a  great  alarm.  I  do  not  know  that  these 
measures  are  not  necessary ;  but  they  are  certainly 
bad  precedents. 

Things  at  present  appear  to  be  going  on  with  tol- 
erable frankness  in  France,  but  the  condition  of  the 
country  must  be  more  wretched.  At  a  meeting  of 
one  of  the  clubs  I  see  that  Leon  Faucher,  a  distin- 
guished man,  has  openly  charged  the  former  Provis- 
ional and  Executive  Governments  with  complicity 
in  the  late  insurrection,  not  excepting  even  Lamar- 
tine.  I  must  demand  further  proof,  before  I  yield  to 
distrust  of  that  great  man's  integrity,  and  I  cannot 
doubt  he  will  come  out  clear,  though  he  seems  to  be 
the  object  of  almost  universal  suspicion.  The  history 
of  the  last  insurrection  makes  one  perfectly  sick  at 
heart ;  but  there  is  some  consolation  in  looking  at 
the  magnanimity  and  bravery  displayed  by  the 
friends  of  order;  and  the  beautiful  conduct  of  the 
Archbishop  of  Paris,  is  a  bright  page  to  illuminate 


406         EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

these  dark  and  dreadful  episodes  of  crime  and  misery. 
"How  far  the  little  taper  sends  its  beams;  so  shines 
a  good  deed  in  this  naughty  world."  It  is  worth 
while  to  say  masses  for  the  soul  of  such  a  man,  if  it 
is  only  to  recall  his  sublime  and  touching  example  to 
the  mind.  This  is  enough  of  the  dismal ;  now  for 
something  on  the  other  side.  Mrs.  Bates  gave,  on 
Wednesday,  a  most  splendid  breakfast,  at  jive  o^clockj 
(not  five  o'clock  in  the  morning,)  to  a  party  of  sev- 
eral hundreds  ;  and  entertained  her  friends  with  the 
charming  notes  of  Grisi,  Corbari,  Alboni,  Mario, 
Lablache,  &c.  .  The  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Cam- 
bridge honored  the  lady  with  their  company,  with  a 
host  of  other  lords  and  ladies.  The  occasion  at  Mrs. 
Bates's,  in  all  its  company  and  appurtenances,  was 
most  brilliant.  The  tables  were  laid  in  the  conser- 
vatory, elegantly  fitted  up;  and  we  had  only  to 
regret,  that  a  constant  rain  prevented  the  illumination 
of  the  beautiful  grounds,  for  which  every  preparation 
had  been  made.  Light  and  green  always  contrast 
well  with  each  other,  and  the  lighting  up  of  the 
shrubbery,  with  the  finely  dressed  ladies,  flitting 
through  the  walks  and  shaded  avenues,  must  have 
converted  the  grounds  into  Elysian  fields.  Yours 
truly. 


LETTER   CCXXII.  407 


LETTER  CCXXII. 

TO    MRS.    B . 

,.     ^         „  Dunkeld,  August,  1S18, 

Mt  Dear  Friend  :  >      o      > 

You  see  how  much  I  am  disposed  to  encourage 
the  projects  of  Mr.  Rowland  Hill,  but  not,  I  hope,  to 
your  annoyance.  My  last  was  dated  last  Sunday,  at 
Tarbet;  since  which  we  have  had  no  rest  for  the 
soles  of  our  feet  until  we  reached  this  village,  late 
last  evening  ;  cold,  hungry,  and  sleepy,  but  not  cross 
at  all,  havmg  ridden  a  hundred  miles  since  ten 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  too  glad  and  too  grate- 
ful to  get  within  the  precincts  of  a  warm  fire  and  the 
smell  of  something  to  eat,  to  be  out  of  humor  with 
anybody.  But  judge  our  disappointment  when  we 
got  down  from  the  top  of  the  coach,  at  eleven  o'clock 
at  night,  and  the  first  words  that  met  our  ears  were, 
sirs,  there  is  not  a  spare  bed  to  be  had  in  Dunkeld, 
nor  within  two  miles  of  Dunkeld.  But  there  was  no 
going  farther,  so  we  were  glad  to  be  permitted  to 
pitch  our  tents  on  the  sofas  in  the  two  parlors,  from 
whence  we  were  routed  at  the  dawn  of  day,  and 
where,  if  a  man  could  sleep  in  quiet,  he  must  have 
had  a  more  peaceful  conscience  than  mine. 

Since  I  wrote  you,  we  have  traversed  the  High- 
lands and  coasted  the  margin  of  several  of  the  beau- 
tiful Scotch  lakes,  (we  should  call  them  in  America 
mere  ponds;)    and  admired  many  a  lofty  mountain. 


408        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

lifting  its  uncovered  head  to  the  sun  and  wind  ;  and 
threading  many  a  glen,  where  the  bounding  stream 
leaps  from  rock  to  rock,  in  its  eternal  locomotion, 
and  where  long  avenues  of  trees  furnish  a  delicious 
retreat  from  the  summer's  sun,  if  they  have  any  sun- 
shine in  Scotland.  •  From  Tarbet  we  went  to  Oban, 
on  Monday,  and  took  the  steamboat  for  the  islands 
of  lona  and  Staffa.  The  morning  was  rainy,  but  it 
ceEised  at  noon.  I  never  saw  a  better  steamboat,  in 
every  respect,  and  only  one  so  good.  We  visited  the 
ruins  of  the  cathedral,  dating  back  as  far  as  379, 
where,  what  was  called  Christianity,  flourished  in 
wealth  and  magnificence,  but  is  now  succeeded  by 
squalid  misery  and  beggary.  From  this,  we  visited 
the  eighth  wonder  of  the  world,  Fingal's  Cave,  and 
made  this  finished  temple  of  nature,  built  with  un- 
jivalled  art  and  skill,  ring  with  our  shouts,  and 
mingled  our  chants  with  the  anthems  which  the 
waves  here  pour  forth  day  and  night  without  cessa- 
tion. We  returned  to  Oban  delighted,  and  filled  with 
admiration  with  every  thing  we  had  seen,  finding  the 
most  agreeable  society  on  board  the  boat.  The  next 
day  we  proceeded  to  Fort  William  ;  the  next  to  In- 
verness, and  yesterday  turned  our  faces  south  from 
the  land  of  snows  and  storms,  of  purple  mountains 
and  purple  faces.  I  am  anxious  to  be  back  in  Lon- 
don, to  prepare  for  my  departure,  to  which  I  now  see 
no  hinderance.  The  pure  air  of  these  mountain  re- 
gions is  perfect  nectar.  To-day  it  has  rained  all  day 
—  to-morrow  we  expect  the  same,  and  according  to 
experience,  every  day  next  week.     Adieu. 


LETTER    CCXXIII.  409 


LETTER  CCXXIII. 


TO    MRS.    T- 


Dunkeld,  26th  August,  1848. 
My  Dear  Friend  : 

I  AM  in  one  of  the  prettiest,  most  romantic,  and 
picturesque  valleys  into  which  the  sun  ever  peeps  ;  — 
for,  judging  from  our  experience,  he  never  does  any 
thing  more  than  peep  anywhere  in  Scotland.  Here 
flows,  rumbling,  gushing,  and  gliding  along,  the  beau- 
tiful river  Tay,  of  no  use  in  any  commercial  view, 
but  serving  to  adorn  this  charming  spot,  and  making 
a  retreat  for  the  salmon,  which  crowd  into  it,  in  the 
proper  season,  to  deposit  the  seed  of  their  future 
progeny,  and  to  fall  into  the  nets  of  man,  that  univer- 
sal beast  of  prey,  who  seems  to  use  the  extraordinary 
reason  with  which  Heaven  has  endowed  him,  only 
that  he  may  ensnare,  or  bring  into  his  power,  or  use 
for  his  own  selfish  purposes,  his  fellow  creatures  of 
every  class  and  description.  Here  is  an  arched  stone 
bridge,  of  fine  architectural  proportions,  spanning 
this,  as  a  lady  would  call  it,  lovely  stream ;  here  are 
naked  mountains,  rising  before  the  eye  in  solemn 
grandeur;  and  small  hills  bristling  with  beautiful 
firs  ;  and  shady  avenues,  and  moss-grown  cottages  ; 
and  a  village  built  by,  a  single  individual,  with  great 
art  and  useful  simplicity.     Here  we  came  — 

"  Over  the  hills  and  far  away  " — 
VOL.    IJ.  18 


410        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

and  here  we  are  lodged  in  a  most  luxurious  hotel ; 
and  here  we  purpose  to  stay  until  Tuesday  or 
Wednesday,  to  see  what  can  be  done  towards  im- 
proving our  condition  and  appearance,  which  have 
become  rather  the  worse  for  wear. 

In  general,  the  Scotch  are  a  tall  and  admirably 
formed  race,  full  of  bone  and  muscle — men  and 
women  —  without  even  a  spark  of  beauty ;  with  no 
humor,  but  extraordinary  sagacity ;  very  civil  in 
'their  way,  and  extremely  obliging ;  far  superior,  in 
general,  to  the  English  in  understanding  and  intelli- 
gence ;  and,  in  all  their  habits,  prejudices,  and,  above 
all,  their  religious  notions,  appcirently  made  of  cast 
iron,  which  will  break,  but  never  bend.  In  the 
cities,  and  at  the  hotels,  they,  of  course,  speak  Eng- 
lish —  that  is  Scotch-English  ;  but  in  the  country, 
all  to  the  north  of  the  Forth,  and  especially  in  the 
Highlands,  they  speak  among  themselves  only  Gaelic, 
and  a  stranger  is  utterly  confounded  with  this  un- 
earthly language.  I  cannot  say  that  it  is  impossible 
to  get  a  word  out  of  them,  for  only  speak  to  them, 
and  they  pour  out  such  a  splutter  of  sounds,  nasal 
and  guttural,  that  one  is  half  disposed  to  think  that  a 
whole  pack  of  dogs.  Tray,  Sweetheart,  and  Growler, 
are  let  loose  upon  you  at  once.  It  is  certainly  a  cap- 
ital language  to  scold  in  ;  but  how  one  should  ever 
make  love  in  such  tones,  wholly  passes  my  compre- 
hension. 

Well,  we  have  coursed  Scotland  for  a  "pretty  con- 
siderable "  distance.  We  entered  at  Gretna  Green, 
where  many  a  pair  have  entered  it  under  very  differ- 


LETTER    CCXXIII.  411 

ent  circumstances ;  and  we  have  threaded  its  lakes 
and  bays,  and  cruised  among  its  beautiful  islands  on 
the  western  coast,  until  we  reached  the  far-famed 
city  of  Inverness  ;  and  there  we  turned  our  faces 
south,  and  are  now  coming  down  its  centre,  among 
its  bonnie  braes,  its  purple  heaths,  and  its  frowning 
mountains.  Here,  on  some  of  its  summits,  lingers 
the  snow  of  years  gone  by,  and  here  some  new  snows 
have  lately  shed  their  feathers,  as  if  summer  had 
wholly  dropped  out  of  the  almanac. 

We  return  to  Edinburgh,  through  Perth  and  Stir- 
ling ;  thence  to  Galashiels,  to  worship  at  the  shrine 
of  the  immortal  Scott ;  thence  to  Melrose,  to  medi- 
tate among  its  picturesque  ruins ;  thence  to  Dry- 
burgh,  where  unadorned  repose  the  ashes  of  Caledo- 
nia's idol ;  thence  to  Newcastle  and  Durham,  to  see 
its  magnificent  cathedral ;  thence  to  York,  to  hear 
the  solemn  chants  echoed  from  the  arches  of  the 
Minster ;  thence  to  Chatsworth,  that  museum  of 
what  is  most  beautiful  in  art  and  nature  ;  thence  to 
London  —  I  am  sorry  to  say,  for  the  last  time  —  to 
take  leave  of  friends,  than  whom  none  were  ever 
more  loved  and  honored,  and  none  ever  deserved  to 
be  more  loved  and  honored.  As  the  time  of  my 
departure  draws  near,  England  appears  to  me  more 
grand  and  beautiful  than  ever.  She  has  great  faults  ; 
she  has  many  dreadful  stains  upon  her  escutcheon  ; 
I  believe  there  is  more  crime,  and  more  misery,  and 
more  vice,  existing  in  her,  than  can  possibly  consist 
with  her  prosperity,  or  the  permanency  of  her  present 
institutions  ;  —  but,  with  all  this,  there  is  such  avast 


412        EUROPEAN  LIFE  AND  MANNERS. 

amount  of  honor  and  truth,  of  love  of  decency  and 
order,  of  virtuous  ambition,  and  just  appreciation  of 
all  that  is  excellent  in  every  department ;  there  is 
such  an  amount  of  kindness  and  philanthropy,  of 
personal,  domestic  and  private  virtue,  that  not  to  love 
and  honor  her,  would  only  prove  one  destitute  of  all 
elevated  moral  taste  and  sentiment.     Adieu. 


LETTER  CCXXIV. 

London,  21st  September,  1848. 
My  Deak  M : 

Mr.  B and  myself  have  recently  made  a  most 

delightful  tour  of  six  weeks  in  England  and  Scotland, 
taking  all  the  great  objects  of  interest  and  curiosity 
in  our  way,  and  leaving  the  great  thoroughfares, 
making  a  hundred  charming  episodes.  I  believe  it 
would  be  impossible,  in  that  kind  of  way,  to  have 
filled  up  the  same  time  more  agreeably.  The  rail- 
road is  an  execrable  mode  of  travelling  :  locked  up  in 
a  tea-chest,  or  what  might  more  properly  be  called 
here  a  police-van ;  hurrying  and  driving  like  mad- 
men ;  at  all  the  stations  watching  your  luggage,  as 
though  you  were  on  the  road  from  Jerusalem  to  Jeri- 
cho, and  among  the  company  that  used  to  infest  that 
memorable  passage  ;  seeing  ordinarily  nothing  but 
two  high,  gravelly  banks  ;  shooting  through  a  tunnel 
miles  long  and  dark  as  midnight ;  asking  the  name 
of  this  place  or  that  place,  and,  before  your  neighbor 


LETTER    CCXXIV.  413 

can  answer,  finding  yourself  miles  beyond  it ;  unable 
to  converse  for-  the  clattering  of  the  rails ;  convulsed 
every  once  in  awhile  by  that  unearthly  shriek  of  the 
railroad  whistle  ;  afraid  of  being  smashed,  afraid  of 
smashing  other  people  ;  your  imagination  conjuring 
up  all  sorts  of  accidents ;  express  trains  passing  by 
you  and  startling  you  like  an  electric  shock,  &.C., 
&c.,  &c.  Altogether  it  is  a  terrific  and  detestable 
sort  of  travelling,  to  say  nothing  of  sleeping  at  Land's 
End,  dining  in  London,  and  taking  tea  at  Johnny 
Groat's  house  the  same  day,  and  not  knowing 
whether  you  are  "in  the  body  or  out  of  the  body." 
I  should  renounce  all  railroads,  if  there  were  any 
other  means  of  locomotion,  excepting  for  the  despatch, 
and  that  is  most  convenient,  so  that  we  accomplished 
almost  as  much  in  six  weeks  as  could  ordinarily  be 
done  in  six  months.  We  rode,  however,  frequently 
in  coaches,  sometimes  posted,  and  sometimes  travelled 
by  steamboat.  But  I  must  leave  the  account  until  I 
see  you. 

My  preparation  for  departure  occupies  every  moment 
of  my  time,  and  it  would  be  quite  useless  for  me  to 
attempt  to  commit  to  paper  the  feelings  with  which 
I  anticipate  my  return  to  my  native  land.  My  entire 
tour  has  been  one  of  uninterrupted  interest  and 
pleasure.  I  have  made  the  acquaintance  of  many,  in 
all  the  walks  of  life,  from  whom  I  have  received 
unlimited  kindness  and  attention,  and  with  whom  it 
is  truly  painful  to  mfe  to  exchange  a  last  farewell.  I 
have  great  cause  to  be  thankful  that  the  lives  and 
health  of  each  of  us  have  been  spared,  and  it  is  my 


414  EUROPEAN    LIFE    AND    MANNERS. 

most  earnest  hope  and  wish,  that,  ere  many  weeks 
elapse,  we  may  once  more  find  ourselves  at  the 
cheerful  firesides  of  those  we  love  so  well.  Till 
then,  adieu. 


cu 


'2-i^ir 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  UBRABV  '*;  L,';' 


A     000  659  382     6 


